Secondary Shell
by JiseiHakushaku
Summary: Some say the dead should just stay dead; sometimes, the dead are too stubborn. There is a balance that is about to be unsettled, and a plot is about to begin. Warning for OCs. Manga/Gameverse.
1. Prologue: An Additional Note

A/n: Hello, everyone. For those returning, welcome back. For those just stumbling, it's nice to meet you! You can just call me Dice. ;D About a year ago (I think) I started writing "Lightning Chaos". But as said, about a year has passed. I've grown up and hopefully gotten better at writing then before. Combined with the addition of Brotherhood and some crazy ideas I picked up, I decided it was time to rewrite the whole fanfiction. (For bigger detail, see the ramble in the Author's Note of LC). I plan to mix Brotherhood/the manga and the games mostly, but, we'll see where it takes us!

To start off is a short prologue. It's nothing much, but I did want to get this out soon. :3

Disclaimer: I think it's pretty obvious that I'm not Hiromu Arakawa. Let's leave it at that for now.

* * *

**Prologue: An Additional Note**

"_Don't try to excuse yourself by saying you're 'doing it for someone else's sake'." –Xerxes Break, Pandora Hearts_

-Cut-

What is lost can never be returned.

What is dead can never live in its own world again.

You can not change time, or the events occurring within its grasp.

To try and say otherwise is but a jest. To try and prove otherwise is folly.

It is just as folly to try and defy the fate that we are all bound to from the beginning of our existence. Attempting such things is like attempting to defy science and nature. Like defying the very fundaments of alchemy.

My entire life has been spent recollecting what those before me have done—what the I before me has done—and the results of those decisions. This document is the result of such things.

It recounts the tale of a country called Amestris, centering around the heroes that saved it from it's greatest war, and the untold tales of certain beings…

As this life draws to an end for me, I pass the knowledge on to my successor. May he add whatever my next self misses and help with our kind's survival.

I can only hope that it lasts the possible many years in between, and that it may someday serve a great purpose.

—_Xiao Seong_


	2. Chapter One: Family Life

A/n: And here we go with the first chapter. It's not much, but oh well. I hope you enjoy it, and once again, thanks for returning for the new fic! :3

Ami: After the braincell-frying we did before, I'm surprised you all had the life to. Oh well. Thanks... or something...

Disclaimer: … Must I? I'm lazy, and I want to post this so I can get back to rereading FANG. x~~x *shot*

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**Chapter One: Family Life**

"_I promise on that oath, I will be by your side until the bitter end." –Claude Faustus, Kuroshitsuji II_

-Cut-

"Wahhhhh, daddy! Kara's trying to do my hair again!"

"Stop trying to poke my eyes! You're my Barbie doll!"

"Hey, daddy, I want chocolate chips in my waffles!"

"Dad, Ami turned the TV up waaaay too loud!"

"Girls, p-please calm down!" _It's far too early for all this activity…_

Adrian Curroff adjusted his glasses, gulping as his two daughters argued over a hair brush and television remote control. It was only 7:00 in the morning, but already everything was buzzing. He so wished that his wife didn't always leave so early for work; whenever she was there, none of this happened. It was usually sort of peaceful.

But now, he had a nonstop barking boxer, two screaming girls, burning waffles, and a blaring television. Oh, the chaos…

"… _Search for the missing 4 year old ends in Michigan, in tragedy. The body of Chén Wang, whom was kidnapped from her home in California, was found in the trunk of a car during a routine at-the-border inspection. Officials are saying the cause of death was suffocation—,"_

"Turn that off!" Adrian gasped, running over and snatching the remote from the girls immediately, once realizing the topic. "Isn't Pokémon on by now? Watch that!"

"Ew. Pokémon." Ami cringed, immediately dropping the topic and going to hug the barking boxer. "Me and Reggie hate cartoons, they're so stupid."

"Shut up, you're only a second grader! What would you know about quality entertainment?" Kara whined.

Adrian sighed, pleading for the girls to stop arguing as he returned to his cooking. He wasn't cut out to be a homemaker type of father. Sure, he was good with the house chores and so on, but he had absolutely no backbone. How his wife expected him to raise two stubborn young girls with dominating personalities was beyond him. Hell, why he even got stuck surrounded by such women was beyond him.

Leah Curroff, his wife, had been the high school prize—and fear. She was bold, blunt, business savvy, and intimidating. Her short tempter was infamous, and her feminist ideals strong. Adrian had admired her since their middle school days, and somehow, his brother interpreted this as liking her romantically. During a graduation party, he was forced into asking her out—no, no, it's more like he was tricked into doing such.

From there, he was bossed around by the overwhelming love of his life, and soon discovered he was going to be a father. He married the 'empowered business woman', and started his family.

To those who still wonder how such a meek man could make himself known in the eyes of such a gigantic dominating woman, we can only assume Leah had been on the rebound. But that is a different chapter in a different story entirely.

"Go get 'em, Pikachu! Go Ash! Catch 'em all! Wooooo!"

Karalyn—known as Kara—squealed happily over her television program. She was almost twelve now, and growing up so fast. Like most of the girls on her father's side, she had red hair, though it seemed it be darker and more brownish than most. She was tall, hyper, and rather eccentric. She viewed people more as Barbie dolls and dress-up toys than anything, and loved cartoons and games. As innocent as she could be though, she was often telling explicit jokes that she heard on television, or saw on the internet, and was a bit boy-crazy. For instance, Adrian had already told her twice today that her skirt needed to be pulled down a bit, and to button her shirt more.

He had a daughter at 'that age', and it was exhausting. First that short, 'trendy' hairstyle, and now these sorts of clothing fights?

Damn…

"Reggie, ahahaha! Stop licking me!" Ami giggled, pinned playfully below their dog as he licked her. It was a cute sight.

The younger daughter was Amira, more so often called Ami. She was obsessed with mystical, unexplainable things as much as a seven year old can be. Unlike her sister, she tended to be a bit more reserved—in the aspect that she was a very prideful person—and tomboyish. She didn't like being touched much, and always wanted to seem grown up. It was a contrast to her long red hair and big blue eyes; she looked like a little girl more than anything.

Her father could honestly say one thing, though; she had a youngest sibling complex, and had a lot of bratty, mean and spoiled tendencies.

"Daddy!" Ami snapped, popping up beside him. "Give me that pancake!"

_Exhibit A of said tendencies._

"Request, _not_ demand, p-please…"

"Mommy said only weaklings ask."

Adrian simply sighed, giving in. He knew that once an absently-made comment from Leah was used in the game, he'd lost big time. He always heard that such actions only rewarded bad behavior, but…

Suddenly, the alarm on his watch went off rather loudly, making him gasp. "A-alright girls, it's time to leave the house! School time, everyone!"

"We're walking? Cool kids my age don't walk." Kara stared at him ominously. "Then again, it is nice out, and I have my cute little sister!"

"Noooo!" Ami had already grabbed her jacket, and was running out the door. She really hated having to be walked by Kara. St. Agatha's school was only a few blocks down the street, but it felt like an eternity when her sister was harassing her the whole way.

Kara gasped, chasing her. "Amiiiiiiiiiiiii!"

"G-girls, be careful!" Adrian sighed, though immediately realized they were long gone. "… Have a nice day…"

Reggie barked, tilting his head.

"I can't believe that I feel the need for a beer already…" Adrian whimpered, though settled for coffee instead.

-Cut-

"Wow, so you're going on a trip this weekend?"

"Yeah, camping." Ami grinned at her friend Sachiko, swinging happily. They had a bit before classes started, and the second grade playground was always fun to hang out at. "My daddy said it'd be a cool way to spend the short vacation."

"Lucky." Eliza Flint pouted, eating a granola bar from her seat on top of the monkey bars. "I'm just going to see my dad this weekend."

"I may go to my grandmother's, if my parents let me." Sachiko Yamada sighed. "Tarou has a showcase at his college though…"

Ami laughed. "You're so lucky to have a brother in college!"

"Yeah, it's sooo in!" Eliza chirped.

Sachiko smiled confusedly at the blonde, not really understanding, before looking back to Ami. "What kinds of stuff will you do at the lake?"

"We'll swim, and my mom will hunt. We'll also camp." Ami blinked.

"Ewww. Swim in a lake?" Eliza cringed. "Icky!"

"Yeah, but fun, and just as safe as a pool! Plus, I love fish."

The conversation was basically the same tone from that point, carrying on until it was time to start class and finish the week at last. The whole time though, Ami was distracted. She was looking forward to this vacation a lot.

It wasn't a big deal, really. Just a short couple of days with her parents, sister, and dog at a lake in Toronto. They didn't go often because of temperatures, but hopefully, they would be able to swim this time, and fish a bit too.

Maybe she was just eager to see someplace new. She'd felt tired lately, and had been feeling paranoid… She'd probably just been watching too much TV with Kara.

Yup. Too many scary movies, for sure…

-Cut-

A boy—presumably around ten years of age—sat on the roof, looking up at the nighttime sky with droopy eyes. He was tired, but this was far more important than a night of sleep. This was more than just a hobby, a pastime, or some weird job. It was duty, a passion, and a promise. A complicated internal understanding.

Perhaps that was a random-sounding explanation to some, but to him, it was practically everything.

Black hair fell into his eyes as he folded his hands, waiting patiently. Tonight would definitely be one of _those_ nights, right? He'd predicted it correctly, for sure…

Just when his confidence in his sensing abilities slightly had begun to waver, the awaited sign appeared at last; a shooting star that radiated a strange essence, like the kind a soul could let off… It lit up the sky, before seemingly vanishing. _Near the Ying clan's homes, I believe…? _He tilted his head, squinting. It was hard to get a clear view at night.

Either way, this was something that couldn't be ignored. He frowned slightly, standing and making his way down. This was a bittersweet event, really. He idly wondered what kind of tragedy had brought them here, and hoped that perhaps there could be one more soul who'd come without painful burdens. Either way, he would accept them into this place with open arms.

"_Another soul crossed. Another life put out. Another 'child' born. Another person to guide._" He mumbled absently as he made his way.

That was a saying he'd known and recited since he was young.


	3. Author Fail

Today, a kind person contacted me and informed me of a huge error. I posted the completely wrong chapter of Secondary Shell. =/=;;

I'm so sorry for the mix up and confusion. PLEASE disregard what you read and pardon my error. I'll upload the next chapter soon, once I repair my ego a little. Jk, but yeah. I have no idea how I did this. ._.

See, kids? Too much Pokemon IS bad for you.

-Dice


	4. Chapter Two: Suffocate

A/N: Holy crap. I live. And am posting a real chapter.

Yeah, um… Sorry for not updating in months… on anything… I had the worst case of writer's block ever, plus, school has been insane. And the new season of Kuroshitsuji destracted me! I blame Yana Toboso! Dx *shot down*

Please don't kill me. This chapter is over 2,000 words, and I have another two already written. I'm on a writing spree! ;_;

Insert a standard disclaimer, blah blah blah. Oh, and this chapter was self-beta'd. Please bear with any errors. D:

**

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**Chapter Two: Suffocate  
**"_There is nothing more devastating than the feeling of your heart stopping in your own chest, and realizing you are, after all, just a human." – Unknown_

**-Cut-**

It was early in the morning when Adrian Curroff woke up with a sigh. He looked forward to the trip with his family, but already dreading the long car ride.

"It's thirty percent in increase or nothing…"

Adrian barely held back a chuckle at his wife's slurred mutterings, gently brushing aside the blonde curls to kiss her head. She stirred slightly, but thankfully did not wake. Her husband dreaded the beating he'd get if he'd gotten her up even a minute before that alarm said it was time…

He sat up and stretched, climbing out of bed and applying his robe and slippers, before going about the rest of his morning routine.

He'd check on his daughters first; Kara had fallen asleep in a strange position with one of her even stranger (in his eyes, at least) Japanese comics over her eyes. He felt his eye twitch at the sight of the partially nude embracing lovers on the cover, and wondered why her mother thought this to be appropriate reading material for a pre-teen.

Ah, if only his perverted eldest girl could be as thickheaded—er, _thoroughly oblivious_—as his youngest. Ami was curled up on her bed with the dog with her arms wrapped around their dog, Reggie, and _The Golden Compass' _ending credit music playing softly over the portable DVD player she'd somehow snuck into her room again. He sighed, walking in to turn off the device, careful not to wake the snoring redhead.

Reggie eyed him in annoyance; dogs weren't as easy to sneak around.

Now that he knew his family was still breathing, he could cook breakfast.

It was something he prided himself on. Getting up every morning and seeing his family, that is. He probably wasn't the best father or husband, ever, and he was quite aware of what a weak, shy, pathetic character he tended to be, but whenever he saw all three of his girls still alive, he felt like he'd done something right.

He couldn't imagine how he'd feel if he lost any of them.

**-Cut-**

"Woohooo!" Kara cheered, practically throwing herself out of the car before it had even stopped. Ami and Reggie followed with equal enthusiasm, and soon, the trio of girls and dog were running around childishly, laughing and goofing off with sticks.

One would never guess that moments earlier, the girls were pulling each others' hair and biting each other.

Ah, the joys of sibling rivalry.

Leah Curroff sighed, adjusting the laces on her boots from the front seat of the station wagon, glaring at the footwear in disdain.

"Damn things. Shoulda just got the cheap ones from WalMart, not these stupid brand name ones…" She swore when a lace snapped, before reaching in the glove compartment and pulling out a roll of duct tape. "I'll be _damned_ when twenty bucks goes farther than a fucking fifty."

"Leah, you'll ruin the leather!" Adrian protested from where he stood by the trunk, fumbling with the tents. "D-don't wrap it with duct tape—"

The blonde huffed, frowning. "I don't give a damn." And it showed; she'd already wrapped a strip of tape around the boot. "Heh, these'll stay tied now!"

"... T-there's really gotta be a better way. How wasteful…" He whined.

"We don't need to save money, do we?" Leah frowned, before sighing. "Well, yeah, probably should consider it…"

"Huh?" Since when did his wife agree so fast?

"Nothing, nothing."

"…"

From then on, not much really happened. Adrian set up the tents and then took the girls on a hike, while Leah started cooking lunch. When he got back with the hungry kids, Leah took off with a snack and a gun to try and get some afternoon hunting in. Reggie eagerly tagged along as a body guard, which resulted in Ami feeling depressed until her dad pulled out the iPod again. Really, the girl was addicted. In the meanwhile, Kara went fishing at the nearby pond. When Leah got back, there were games, ghost stories, and dinner.

Really, it was everything you'd expect a family camping trip to be. Nothing was out of the ordinary; well, except that everyone seemed to be getting along fairly well. That was the only abnormality—the strange amount of smiling faces and laughter, all at the same time—but Adrian couldn't say he minded it.

_Leah is always working and determined to make herself into a high class career woman, even if it kills her or the marriage. Karalyn is growing up and wants to be with her friends more, and she's taking a real interest in dating lately. Ami's going to need extra classes during break, and may even be moved to the special learning class if she can't keep up. _Adrian internally sighed, feeling his stress building at just the thought. _Everything is so hectic; I just want to spend this weekend with my family so I can remind myself that the craziness is temporary._

_We have all our lives, after all._

**-Cut-**

"Psst."

Silence, then a snore.

"Psst."

"Nnn…?"

"Psssssst!"

"…"

"I SAID 'PSST', DANG IT!"

"Ack!" Ami cringed, covering her ears. "The heck—! Kara?"

"Mornin' to you too, doll." Kara grinned, stroking her little sister's hair in a tender manner. "Wanna go for a swim, hon?"

"… You didn't really wake me up for that, did you?"

"I did, I did!"

"… I don't feel like swimming, Kara." Ami frowned, attempting to curl up in her sleeping bag again, snuggling against Reggie's warm belly. She didn't want to the leave the warm comfort. "The sun isn't even up yet…"

"So? That's going to make it more fun, silly! Mom and dad are sound asleep, and we can have some fun in the water without the adults making silly no-diving rules."

Ami blinked, tilting her head as she sat up. Hm, that did sound nice…

"Hnnn, fine." She frowned. "Where's my suit?"

"We're going in our clothes, stupid. It's too cold for a swimsuit!"

"That makes no sense…"

"Whatever, come on!" Kara grinned wider, grabbing her younger sister by the wrist and pulling her out.

Karalyn had always been the more reckless, spontaneous Curroff sister. As soon as an idea came to her, she went with it, no matter how ridiculous it was. She had the most insane plans for her life, and the weirdest dreams. She just wanted thrills and fun stories to tell her kids, really.

And of course, no crazy act is completely without a partner in crime, which is just where Ami came in. _Kicking and screaming._

As soon as Kara got them close to the pond, Ami had been stripped of her socks and nightcap, and shoved into the freezing water.

It was all that the younger sister could do not to cry out—out of surprise and cold—but she knew she couldn't, at risk of waking up their parents.

"Don't be a baby." Kara sniffed, tossing her the underwater camera. "Now, take some pictures for my school project."

"Y-y-you're not g-g-getting in?" Ami asked, shivering as she fumbled with the device.

"No way, are you kidding me? It's too cold. If I get sick, I won't be able to fly out to see Melody for my birthday!"

_And just what kind of birthday party would that be? _Ami deadpanned, though gave in.

Taking a deep breath, she dove in, smiling to herself.

She really loved swimming.

**-Cut-**

"_Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are shooting stars? I could really use a wish right now…" – Airplanes, Paramore_

**-Cut-**

_I love to swim. It's really fun._

_The plants in this pond are pretty! I gotta get a picture of these._

_Oh, look, that's cool too…_

Ami came up for a breath, just for a moment, before diving back down. The flash went off like mad once she did; the pictures may not have been the best, but at least it was fun for her to do.

After a few more shots, she came up again, only to see Kara looking worried.

"Mom and dad almost woke up; just get a couple more and then I'll help you change."

"Alright." Ami panted, rubbing her eyes. She dove back in with a grin, ignoring the shakes racking her body.

God, she hoped she didn't get sick.

She took pictures of a few pretty rocks she'd missed, pursing her lip as she looked around. She could feel her ears popping a bit, and wanted to hurry. As she headed for the surface, her eyes widened.

Her pants got stuck on a stick.

She tried not to panic as best as a seven year old girl could, tugging and pulling and growing nervous as her lungs burned.

After what seemed like forever, her pajamas pants leg tore.

Ami shot up to the surface like a rocket, gasping. The pond was only about five feet deep, but still, that had been scary for the barely four-foot girl.

"You alright?" Kara asked as her sister climbed out. She immediately set to stripping her of the clothes behind a bush, and drying her nearly numb body with a spare blanket.

"Y-y-yeah…" Ami mumbled. "Got st-stuck for a sec. I-it's alright…"

"Good. I wouldn't want to get grounded because you died on me!" Kara laughed.

"… T-that's not really funny…"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. C'mon, you big cry baby, let's get you warmed up."

**-Cut-**

The next day came and went, and neither of the girls' parents were the least bit aware of their daughters' exploits the previous night. Adrian had noticed Ami might be catching a cold and left site to pick up some medicine and soup from a convenience store a few miles away, but other than that everything was fine as could be.

Everyone was doing fine, and that was really all that mattered.

By the time Sunday came around, though, there was mass exhaustion.

None of the Curroff family wanted to leave the campsite and return to their busy lives. Leah had a business meeting to go to with "some real pigs" when she got home, and the girls both had homework waiting in the car. Adrian had parent/teacher meetings, and a vet appointment for Reggie…

Returning to the hectic life back home really didn't seem so appealing.

"I don't want to go home!" Ami shouted, obviously fuming. "I don't wanna go back to school. Sister Martha'll just pick on me again!"

"Maybe she wouldn't if you actually studied and made something better than an F in your English class."

"I-I do study! I try really hard, mommy!" Ami whimpered.

"Fake cuteness won't work on me, Amira." Leah deadpanned, eye twitching slightly at the sparkles that seemed to float around her seven year old.

Ami hissed. "Frick… But really, I try!"

"Hmph."

"Don't pout like that. We're going to the ice rink on Tuesday, remember?" Kara tried, but it was too late; Ami had already proceeded to remove her gloves and scarf, and was starting on her boots.

"What're you up to, kiddo?" Leah practically snorted.

"You can't make me go home if I'm a mermaid!"

"… Oh geez, what're you talkin' about?" Kara and Leah deadpanned in unison, watching as the smaller girl removed her coat.

Before either realized what she had in mind, Ami had darted off to the pond and dived in.

"That little brat—Adrian! Get your daughter!"

Adrian blinked, looking over. "A-Amira! You'll get sick for sure!"

None of the shouts reached Ami underwater though.

She wasn't really sure why she wanted to stay here so badly. Maybe because for that weekend her parents and sister hadn't fought as much? No one was constantly talking about the next trip to North Carolina, her mom's business trips, or how her dad wasn't providing—whatever _that_ meant. She didn't want to go back to school, or be harassed by her sister.

This place was perfect, and she never wanted to go—

Ami held back a gasp when she saw it. Her shirt sleeve was stuck on the same stick that still had the fabric from her pajama pants last night. She tugged and tugged as her lungs began burning.

It didn't work.

She kicked at the floor of the pond, eyes widening in pain when her foot got jammed between some rocks.

_Daddy! Momma!_

A small moment passed. No one seemed to be concerned with the absence.

Her chest and head both hurt so much. She closed her eyes as she gasped, and began choking on the bitter water.

She swore she saw a fish or something watch her, practically mocking her inability to breath under the water.

And then, it went dark.

Absolutely, _positively_ dark.

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A/N: I promise that things'll pick up next chapter. There's something you'll probably—hopefully—like. (I know Aikiku likes it…)


	5. Chapter Three: Lucky Stars

A/N: I suck. I forgot to update. And then it's a really short chapter. Blarg! Sorry.

Anyways… Happy belated Christmas, and Happy New Year('s Eve). :D  
New character introduced in this chapter. Aikiku can be happy about this since he is apparently her bitch. :U

Disclaimer: … You really don't need this, do you? Also, warning; this chapter was self-beta'd. I promise, this'll be the last time you deal with my shoddy editing.

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**Chapter Three: Lucky Stars**

_"Everyone, deep down within, carries a small cemetery of those he has loved."__ –__Romain Rolland_

Funerals are uncomfortable.

Maybe it's the mourning family that you're scared to offend. Maybe it's the sensation of death. Whether you know the person or not, whether you're sad or not, or whether they're for a child or adult, it doesn't really matter. It's always just incredibly awkward.

Beside the small casket that had yet to be lowered were Adrian and Leah. Leah seemed to be mumbling something to her husband, who nodded.

Elsewhere was Kara, playing with her baby cousin and aunt.

"Do you miss her?" Her uncle asked.

Kara blinked, tilting her head. "Yeah… There's no one to dress up now." She smiled sadly, hugging Melody tightly. "Hey, can I hang out at your house sometime now?"

"Sure…"

"Yay! Oh, daddy!" Kara blinked, before grinning as her father came over. "I did Melody's hair! Isn't she cute?"

"Y-yes…" Adrian mumbled, scratching his neck. "Go play with Karl, Kara, o-okay?"

Kara blinked, eying him with a pout. "Alright…" She said, lifting up Melody into her arms, before hurrying off.

Shane looked up at his brother, feeling awkward. "Ah, how's Leah doing..?"

"She's good, I suppose." Adrian sighed. "She's… she's telling Ami about the pregnancy. Figured she'd let her know before Kara 'sensed' it."

"The _timing…_"

"Yeah…"

**-Cut-**

_Ami fidgeted, gasping for air that neither was there nor even needed._

M-Mommy—!

_She attempted reach out, choking on the nothingness as the chill and darkness engulfed her, the shadowy arms—like a baby's, but much stronger—pulled her further down. Her hand struggled, thinking that if maybe she reached enough she'd somehow get over the distance and grab the gate-like doors._

_Those doors were towering, no matter how far away she got. It pissed her off so much, how they seemed to taunt her._

_Why couldn't she even scream?_

_The transparent, faceless person stood by the doors, laughing._

_Why was he laughing?_

_Some hands grabbed at her face, and eventually the darkness closed in on her. She relaxed, though her limbs still trembled._

_Was she dead now?_

Ami's eyes darted open, and immediately she noticed the sting. A horrible taste filled her mouth, and she gasped.

_Water!_

Her eyes darted around and her arms flailed as she choked, heart racing and lungs burning. A fish darted by—she felt the scales brush her cheek briefly and nearly screamed—and a shiver went down her spine.

With a few strong, coordinated flails, she was almost to the surface…

When her head shot out, she gasped, inhaling the air greedily. Her lungs were burning still, but that was ignorable enough; Ami was just desperate to get to land.

When she did, it was a massive relief. She slumped on the ground, panting.

"I-it's okay…" Ami breathed, trying to comfort herself. "S'okay, s'okay…"

The weight of her drenched clothes was annoying; it was like fifty pounds on her small body. And it was so cold. She made a whining noise, shivering when a breeze hit her.

Where were her parents? Why weren't they fawning over her in worry? Where was Reggie, or Kara?

Opening her eyes, she looked around weakly with a sniffle.

"W-where am I?"

**-Cut-**

_"You can't find the truth, you just pick the lie you like the best. As long as you know everything's a lie, you can't hurt yourself.__"_ _–Marilyn Manson_

_A young boy sat in the grass, sighing as the loud moans came from the house._

_He'd gotten home from school just now, and had to return to this sort of idiocy __again?__ He sneered, obviously in a great state of contempt._

_It was sickening. __Absolutely sickening.__ This disgusting lifestyle, his disgusting existence…_

_Why did he tolerate it still? Why didn't he leave?_

_It's not like that bitch was forcing him to stay here. It's not like he had a reason to stay, either. Not anymore._

_He brushed back the blonde hair with a sigh, frowning at the house again. The sounds of momentary ecstasy may have been exciting to someone else, but it made his stomach churn._

_He barely managed to get into the house without vomiting._

_"Hey, Harris. Home early?"_

_He grimaced at the muscular, tan man sitting at the plain wooden table. "I suppose." He mumbled, averting his chocolate-brown eyes. Even his ten year old self was aware of what that man could do to him, for even the stupidest reason. "Is my mom working or something?"_

_As if he couldn't tell._

_The man laughed simply, and a shiver went down Harris' spine._

_"Yeah, she's a good worker."_

_"…" Harris shook his head, hurrying towards his room past the dirty kitchen._

_"Hey, kid! Where are you off to in such a rush?"_

_"I n__eed to do homework." He mumbled, slamming the door behind him. _

_He sighed in relief when it seemed that the man hadn't tried to follow him._

_What's that bastard's name, anyways? __Harris wondered. He'd heard him called by at least six different names or titles. __Like it really matters though. He can die, for all I care…_

_He looked __around the empty room, frowning._

_"I'm leaving. I'm leaving." He told himself, shaking his head._

_Harris had to leave. If he didn't, he'd be sucked into this shit, just like his mom. He couldn't let that happen; he __refused__ to be anything like her._

_Harris Klein would definitely be better than that._


	6. Chapter Four: Wonderland

A/N: Otl, this chapter took far too long to write. I'm really not used to writing from Trisha's "perspective", which is something I hope to change. Oh well, at least it's longer. I just wish I could have worked in better dialogue! -angsts- Ah, anyways. Moving on. Thanks to Ai and Rico for going of this for me. I'm talking to someone about being a solid beta now. Sadly, time differences and such interfere!

I am pleased to announce though, this is the end of filler. … No, I'm being serious this time- Well, I hope I am-! Ah… Well, yeah! Enjoy. Reviews are nice, by the way. :P

* * *

**Chapter Four: Wonderland**

_"__There is something similar about all stories, but I still don't know what it is…"__– Elias Canetti_

Trisha Elric sighed as she peered out the kitchen window, frowning slightly before letting the curtain fall back into place; the scenery beyond the glass—and fabric—vanished, but the noise of water droplets thudding against the roof and panes remained. The light drizzle that had been going on since this morning had since turned into a heavy rain; she smiled at the memory of her sons trudging in, soaking wet and to their knees in mud. She wished she'd had a camera to take a picture with; _Hohenheim would have loved to see that. Ha!_

"Mom? Mom!"

"Ah!" Trisha gasped, jumping slightly, before looking to Edward. He was drying his hair with a towel, drips of water staining the collar of his nightshirt. He was giving her this confused look, likely just as startled as she was. "Edward! You scared me!"

Ed blinked, tilting his head slightly. "I called your name a billion times, Mom." He said, almost sounding questioning. "Sorry… Uh, Al can't find a spare towel."

Trisha blinked, nodding. "Oh, I'll get them." She mumbled, moving away from the window. Something flashed past through a crack in the curtains, and she blinked.

_What was that..?_

"Mom!" Al's voice called, startling her again. There was a hint of panic to it, and she figured he was wondering if she'd forgotten him.

"Coming, darling!"

And indeed, Trisha did. She'd hurried up to reach a towel and helped dry her youngest son off, scolding Ed for leaving the bathroom in a bit of a wreck. She watched Al button his shirt, getting it right on the first time. She praised him for his good job.

Ed took Al to their room, while Trisha promised to get them both a drink. The boys eagerly awaited her return; she could hear them laughing and bouncing around in their beds.

She treasured nights like this; they were special to her.

Living without the love of her life being there—being a single mom in itself—wasn't really that hard. Edward and Alphonse were good boys. She understood why Hohenheim wasn't there, too. Yes, she did get lonely at times, but it wasn't something that she would die of.

Not that.

It was hard sometimes on dreary nights when she was alone in that big bed. She'd live, though.

It was harder when she thought someone was intruding or going to harm her family. She was just a lone woman, how could she defend her home?

The thought shook her as she heard a sudden noise from the basement. If it had been one of the boys, she would have heard them open the door and go down the stairs.

Trisha's realization of someone else being in their home was a heavy one that made the blood rush from her face; it would have even been visible in the dark. Sitting up slowly, she listened hard. The patter of footsteps was soft; it wasn't Hohenheim. Her heart sunk momentarily before panic took over. Shakily, the woman reached knowingly for the matches on her beside table and struck one. The sudden low light was relaxing.

Lighting the small candle, Trisha stood, holding it up.

If it was a traveler, she could give them some food and let them on their way. A fight was not needed if it was just for food, when the harsh comparison of what else a lonely traveler could want was indeed a reality and quite plausible.

Was it a soldier, perhaps? She hated the image of a burly man with a gun demanding food and shelter. She didn't want her boys frightened, and let's face it; a soldier could also eat a lot of their food…

She walked, occasionally losing her footing in the dark a bit. She was quiet about opening the door and going to the stairs. Trisha knew how to sneak around in her own home.

She turned round the corner and blinked. A small shape was curled in the kitchen by the sink, sitting on the floor. There were crackling noises coming from the shape, and it didn't seem to notice its company over the munching and heavy breathing.

With a gulp for bravery and an internal monologue on how to defend herself need be, Trisha reached over and turned on the kitchen light.

**- Cut -**

_Ami whimpered as she stumbled in the grass, eyes squinted as she tried to see in the dark. It was late, she was sure, and the rain was growing heavier and heavier._

_It was like being stuck in an endless maze._

_Cold and confused, and suddenly aware of a stinging possible cut on her leg, the young redhead continued to stumble along, occasionally gasping when a rock dug against her heel. It all seemed a bit dramatic, really, like something out of a movie her mom would never approve of her watching. It was hellish._

_She spied a house with lights on, and shook, eying it longingly. No, no, strangers were bad, right? Her mom said not to go in a stranger's house. She'd end up like that girl on TV…_

_Instead, Ami went to the shed behind it. Pausing to throw open the door, she hurried in._

_It was even darker in here; it smelled of dirt and mold and rust. It was like her Aunt's shed, really. She just hoped there weren't rats._

_Ami sat on a bucket, hugging herself with a shudder; gosh, she hated this rain. It was so cold. Back home, on a rainy day, she and Kara would play in it for a few minutes and get cold, just as she was now. The only difference was there was a heater, blanket, and warm family waiting for them in a clean house, with hot chocolate and cookies and Maury on the television, revealing a failed DNA test…_

_She whimpered again, rubbing her sore foot as her stomach growled._

I'm such a wuss, _she thought, glaring in the dark. _Kara would make fun of me. Mom would make fun of me. I can't even find my way back to the campsite! How suckish am I?

_She heard loud voices getting closer and gasped, hiding behind some tools. A large man entered, grumbling about his 'bitch of a wife'._

"_I'll drink if I want, bitch…" He swore loudly, grabbing a large bottle from under the bucket Ami had been sitting on moments before. The man popped open the cork—she heard the _pop!_—and took a loud, long swig. His content sigh could be heard before he walked out, slamming the shed door. The small frame of the shed shook, and particles of dust and old, wet wood dripped down._

_It wasn't really safe to sleep here, Ami figured. She felt her heart sink; she'd have to go back into the rain again…_

…_and so she did._

_The girl trudged across a hill and passed another house with lights on, thighs hurting. Finally, at the top of one hill, she saw a house with only two windows lit up._

_A hopeful smile lit her face. If they went to bed, she could break in and steal food! Oh, a terrible thing to think about doing—even worse to do—but she was so hungry and tired…_

I can't sleep in there, but I can get a snack…

_Ami grinned proudly, running up the hill. The idea of food drove her on._

_Darting past the window, she hid under a nearby tree; it was still cold, but a nice shelter. Oh, she felt so clever, doing this! The rain seemed to lighten a bit, as did her mood. Her stomach rumbled, but she distracted herself by trying to wring out the long tangles of red hair._

_She wasn't sure how long it was before the lights went off at last, but when they did, she didn't waste much time getting to that front door._

_Her hand shook as she went for the knob—it was locked, drat! With a bit of fiddling, though, it opened. What terrible security._

_Ami felt her heart race as she snuck in. The door didn't creak when she opened it, but as she closed it did. She was grateful for the thunder that covered it up._

_Slinking to the kitchen, she noted the lack of fridge. No milk, huh? Darn._

_Going through the cabinets, she found some crackers. They'd have to suffice for cookies, she decided. On the table were some fruits. Ami grabbed what she thought was an apple, and bit in. She took turns between bites of it and the crackers, wishing there was something to drink._

_She was so eager to eat that she didn't notice the footsteps coming down the stairs._

**- Cut -**

Trisha watched the small girl in her kitchen gasp, and look at her in fright. She dropped the half eaten apple in her hands, and scurried back away from her as best she could.

"A-ah…" Trisha was shocked. What was this child doing in her kitchen? Who _was_ she, anyways? She certainly wasn't the daughter of any farmers she knew—a runaway, maybe?

The girl was soaked to the bone, leaving a puddle where she'd sat on the kitchen floor. Under Trisha's stunned gaze, she seemed to shake even more than she had been.

"Hello…" Trisha managed hesitantly after a moment, moving to set the candle on the table. She smiled warmly at the girl, which seemed to relax her a bit. _She's just a little girl, what harm could she do?_ "You must be so cold. Would you like to dry off a bit?"

"…" The girl looked at her hesitantly. "Yeah. I would…"

Trisha smiled. At least she seemed to not be so scared. Her maternal side was starting to emerge, and she couldn't help but see Ed or Al in this state. Wouldn't she hope someone kept her sons from getting a cold if someone else found them like this?

"You don't have to be worried." She consoled, moving to go up the stairs. "What's your name, sweetie?" She asked, beckoning for the girl to follow.

The girl did so, seeming less afraid of Trisha now. She tilted her head a bit, twiddling her thumbs. "Ami."

"Ami?"

"Yeah! Ami Curroff." Ami huffed indignantly, crossing her arms. She was looking at Trisha in a scrutinizing manner. The nervous, shy girl from seconds before almost completely replaced with a confident, offended, and rather snarky one. "I'm seven!" She added, and Trisha nearly laughed at the Edward-like pride in her face, hidden by annoyance.

"What a nice name." Nice, but odd. "I'm Trisha."

"One of my teachers is named Trisha. _Sister Trisha._ She's a mean old hag."

Trisha blinked, unsure how to respond.

This girl was a difficult one…

**- Cut -**

Needless to say, it had been a long night of drying off and feeding the Elric house's intruder. Trisha had tried so hard to figure out who Ami was, and where she was from, but it had been basically a worthless endeavor.

"_I'm from Toronto. That's in Canada."_

Even with her minimal education, Trish was near positive that there wasn't a Toronto or Canada in Amestris. Ami had also mentioned a New York and America, but neither of those sounded familiar either.

"_I go to St. Mary's Private Academy. It's a Catholic school. My mom says it's pretty famous, some child actress went there when she was young or something."_

Again, not a place Trisha had heard of.

"_I've never heard of Risembool or Amestris! Where are those?"_

"_I don't really know how I got here. I woke up in the lake. Uh… I walked here from there! Sorry I tried to steal food, Miss Elric… I was just really hungry and stuff!"_

Trisha closed her eyes, looking at the small sofa in the living room. The sun was almost rising, and she'd been up all night, but at least Ami had fallen asleep after a lot of whining.

Apparently she wasn't used to sleeping without a dog or stuffed animal, and was really afraid of trying to do so. Ed and Al had never been much for stuffed animals, but thankfully Ami had passed out before Trisha could break the news to her.

"What am I supposed to do about you?" Trisha wondered, looking troubled. "I have no idea where you're supposed to be from..!"

"Mom?"

Trisha blinked, looking back to Edward. She smiled, holding out her arms. "Good morning, Ed. Did you sleep well?"

"I guess…" Ed blinked, hugging her quickly before going to get some cereal. "Someone was yelling a lot last night."

"Aw, sorry we disturbed you, sweetie." Trisha smiled sadly.

"S'oka—who's that on the couch?"

_I suppose I should have mentioned that sooner… _"Her name is Ami. She was stuck in the rain last night, and I brought her in. It was after you and Al were asleep, honey." Trisha explained, glancing at the redhead. The girl let out a loud snore. "She's lost and from out of town. She's staying with us for a bit, until we can find out where she lives."

Edward eyed her suspiciously, before shrugging. "Weird. Ah, whatever you say, mom."

"Mm." Trisha stood, heading to the stairs. "I'm going to find her something to wear and get your brother up. Be ready for school, Ed! And don't wake her!"

"Alright, mom!"

**- Cut -**

A quiet breakfast and several short explanations later, Trisha finally got the boys out of the house and off to school. She came home, only to find Ami still very asleep.

"You poor dear, just what happened to you?" She asked herself as she headed up the stairs.

Trisha took a quick bath, relaxing from her long night; she'd only had a few hours of sleep and was tired. No time for a nap yet, though!

After drying and dressing, she sliced and apple for herself. Glancing at the girl slugged out on her couch, she was reminded of the large cut on her tiny leg that she'd bandaged up last night, and the smaller ones on her feet. She wondered if she should take her to Pinako. It was probably a good idea…

Soon, Ami woke up, stretching and yawning. She shuffled over and smiled sluggishly. "Mornin', Miss Elric…"

"Good morning, Ami." She smiled. "Sleep well?"

"I s'pose." Ami blinked, looking around. "I thought you said you had two boys. Where are they?" She asked it in an almost accusing matter, giving Trisha a look that clearly asked _'did you lie to me'_.

Trisha smiled. "They went off to school, but they'll be back soon. I wanted to let you sleep in a bit, you had a long night." She said. "Would you like to go to my friend's house, Ami? She's a doctor, and will make that cut on your leg feel much better than I can make it feel."

"'Kay." The redhead grinned. "Are my clothes dry yet?"

"Sorry, not yet." Trisha said. "You can wear some of Ed's clothes; he's a bit older than you, but about your size."

Ami eagerly accepted, pleased to have something but the ratty nightshirt.

Dressed in a t-shirt and shorts, Ami was ready to go. She'd refused shoes, her feet being surprisingly large for her age and not fitting in the slightest. She wasn't too enthused about having the possibility of needing stitches, since Trisha wasn't too sure how deep the cut was, but was happy to hear Pinako had a puppy.

It was awkward for Trisha when they got there and had to explain _where_ she'd gotten a seven year old girl. Thankfully, Pinako held back, and simply took care of Ami's cut with her usually gruff cheerfulness.

When she was done fixing the cut, it was mutually suggested that Ami play with the dog; Pinako obviously had questions.

"I didn't know you acquired a new child." The old woman joked. "Strange little thing. What's a television? Something she dreamt up?"

"I'm not really sure, actually." Trisha chuckled, watching as Pinako stood and made her way to prepare some tea. "You don't know her?"

"Nope. Never seen her, or anyone with that hair color, come to think of it. Is she foreign?"

The idea brought smiles to both women's faces. _Foreigners in Risembool?_ Preposterous! What was worth coming for in Risembool?

"The way she talks about this place, 'Toronto, Canada', I guess she is." Trisha said. "I brought her here for that cut, yes, but… People come from all the nearby farms and towns for treatment and automail. I thought you might know her!"

Pinako thought hard, taking a moment to second guess her positive assessment. "Never treated a Curroff _or_ Bell. Those were the family names she mentioned, right?"

"Yes." Trisha sighed, a bit exasperated; it seemed like this was one big mess. "She doesn't know any of the towns or countries I've named, either! It's like she's from a whole different country, or world!"

"…" Pinako leaned back against the counter, sighing. "She's not Ishvallen, but I have heard that in times of war, kids from foreign countries get smuggled out." She muttered. "Maybe she's from one of the trouble-spots… Or she's lying."

"It seems awfully creative for a lie." Trisha pouted slightly, looking out the window. The tiny ginger was running around with Den, before plopping in the grass and snuggling up to him. "I'll ask some of the other farmer's. But…"

"If you can't find her parents, I can try to help find a place for her to stay."

Trisha blinked, looking at Pinako. "Wouldn't that be scary for her though? Suddenly tossed to a new family…"

"It happens far too often. If it's the right people, at least she'll be better off than most of the kids in the city…"

Both women cringed; a gruesome idea.

"Yeah, you're right…"

**- Cut -**

It had been weeks since that girl plopped into their lives. Trisha had asked around, but no one seemed to know anything about this girl, Canada, or television.

Ami had been a fine house guest, if not a bit demanding at times. She'd made herself at home as best she could, but Trisha figured that she came from a well-to-do family. Not like that was much of an excuse for rudeness.

Ed and Al had adjusted to having a girl on their couch fairly well. Al didn't mind, though she and Ed fought a lot…

"_You need to drink milk or you'll be frustrated and tiny for your whole life!" Ami snapped at Ed one morning over breakfast, giving him a dirty look._

_The blonde older boy huffed, rolling his eyes. "That's so stupid! I don't need milk to be tall!"_

"_Cows have milk in them all the time, and look how big they are. Bet if a rat like you had milk in him it'd be giant." Ami informed, a devious smirk on her face. _

_Trisha sighed; here they go again…_

"_Did you just call me a rat, cherry-head?" Ed asked, glaring at her._

_Ami only glared back, fork pointed at his neck. "My head is not a fruit!"_

"_Your hair is the color of one."_

"_That is a lie!" Ami shouted, tackling him over. "Dumb blonde, I'll strangle you!"_

"_Ah, guuuuuys!" Al whined._

Despite the bantering, Trisha couldn't help but enjoy a little girl being in the house. She wondered if when Hohenheim came back, they could try for one. She'd love having a daughter…

All the same, in her current situation, Trisha knew she couldn't afford to care for another child. It was sad to say, but she knew she'd have to let someone else take care of Ami.

She started with Pinako, who indeed knew a nice family.

The Bennett family had been living in Risembool since as long as Trisha could remember; the father, Jack, had lost his leg in a farming accident and had been treated by Pinako, who also fitted him with a nice automail leg. His wife, Beth, was kind woman who had made pies for Trisha when she was pregnant. They already had a 13 year old son named Jack Jr., she knew, but had wanted a daughter.

"_Beth had a miscarriage a couple years ago," _Pinako had said. _"I mentioned Amira to them, and they really were excited. I think this is a good place, Trisha; you couldn't do much better than Jack and Beth Bennett."_

Pinako was right. They were nice, and they wanted a child so badly…

It really seemed perfect.

"_They sound nice…"_ Ami has said, smiling a bit nervously when Trisha brought the topic up. _"I can stay with them if they want me."_

Trisha was surprised by the accepting nature, but soon understood. Ami really believed that her mom and dad—Leah and… Adrian?—would come get her soon.

She was positive it was only temporary, and that soon she'd be home in Canada.

_That weekend, Ami went to the Bennett house. _

Both she and Trisha talked with them, and it was decided. It wasn't awkward or sad, or exceptionally anything. It just sort of _happened_.

And that was just how it was.


	7. Chapter Five: Siblings

A/n: Oh my god. This chapter is long. 12 pages, and exactly/over 5,000 words (not counting the quote or author's note, of course). God, this… this makes me feel dizzy. I think I need a nap. _;;

Anyways, in other news, I've gotten an OFFICIAL updating schedule for all my ongoing fanfictions up on my profile; this fic is set to be updated every other Sunday unless I give other notice. Also on my profile is a brand new poll! I'd appreciate it if you guys would vote in it. :D

So… There is lots of Jack going on this chapter. Gosh, I gotta say, I love Jack. In my mind, he's supposed to be the sort of the oddly adorable older brother that a lot of people would want. Lol. ^^;

Ah, I'll stop blabbering and let you get onto the chapter. No disclaimer this time around, hope that's okay.

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**Chapter Five: Siblings**

_"Facts do not cease to exist because they are ignored."_ —Aldous Huxley

"Hey, _Amy._"

Ami groaned, closing her eyes tighter. She heard the curtains move, and the bright light of the morning sun flooded in the room. Painful splotches of light danced across the backs of her eyelids, and the small redhead cringed away, pulling the covers over her head with a sleepy whine.

"Amy."

"F-five more minutes, hnnnn…"

"It's time to get up." The voice said sternly, yet kindly. The covers were pulled away and Ami shivered, curling into a ball. "Don't be so pathetic. You _need_ to get used to this, Amy."

"Don't call me Amy…" Ami whined, peering open her eyes weakly.

Jack stood beside the bed, folding the blanket he'd pulled off with a pleasant sort of small smile.

_He's so nice, _Ami mused, before tilting her head and thinking, _He's my older brother now. _It was weird to realize that as far as the people here were concerned, her old home didn't exist. Her family wasn't really her family, these Bennett people were. They hadn't said anything, but there was a really heavy feeling in the house. Even a seven year old could get what the tenseness was about. Especially the way Miss Beth reminded her about her new name.

"_Your name is Amilia Bennett now, okay? Amilia Bennett."_

Ami hadn't really argued about it, though it made her sad. Had she imagined her mom, dad, Kara and Reggie up? Was she insane?

"Hey, ginger!" Jack's chipper voice snapped her out of the reverie, and she eyed him. His smile widened. "You're being weird, you know that, right?"

"I'm not weird." Ami said matter-of-factly, crossing her arms.

"Ha!" Jack rolled his eyes, moving to lay the now folded blanket at the foot of the bed.

_Does he ever stop smiling' like that? _Ami wondered vaguely, eying the boy as lifted her out of the bed and stood her on the floor, before making the bed himself.

Even though the bed was more so a small cot, Ami could only imagine the trouble that she'd have had preparing it herself. Unlike Jack, she was quite small with sort of stubby arms.

Jack really was a big kid; he was thirteen years old—a year older than Kara!—but was quite tall for his age, at least compared to some of the scrawny older boys her sister had tried to bring around. She'd guessed he was a good two or three feet taller than her, and that idea was fascinating to the tiny red.

She couldn't deny as well that, _as far as cootie-filled boys could go,_ he was not so bad-looking. He was tan and freckled, with a nice head of brown, messy hair and dark brown eyes. He was a friendly type, Ami noted; the kind anyone would like and want to hang around. It was like he could melt a girl… Coming from a seven year old, these thoughts were quite strange; Ami dismissed them as channeling Kara somehow via that sisterly bond she refused to believe in.

"Alright, there we go!" Jack beamed at the neat bed, giving the smaller girl a wink and thumbs up. As if _she'd_ been the one who'd done such a fabulous job…

"What do we have to do now?" Ami asked, biting at a hangnail.

She'd never been exposed to doing chores before; any mess that had been made would be cleaned up by her dad before she even got the chance. Laundry and dish-washing was done by machines that no one had here, and he did all the other cleaning when she was at school…

Jack blinked at her, noticing the confused, far-away expression.

"Well, you should get dressed and then go downstairs. Dad and I feed the animals and stuff, but you'll probably rather help Mom with breakfast—"

"What kind of animals do you have?" Ami cut off, excited at the thought.

Jack stuffed his hands in his pockets, blinking again. "Well, ah… Some sheep, and a cow. There's a goat, too, and a bunch of chickens." He chuckled a bit awkwardly, becoming nervous due to the expectant look on the redheaded girl's face. "That's it…"

"So cool…" She mumbled, smiling. So she lived with _real_ farm people now? Awesome! "I'll help with breakfast, then, I guess. Show me the animals sometime, okay?"

"Yeah." Jack nodded, shrugging. "Ah, I'll go now… leave you to get dressed and stuff…" He muttered.

Ami nodded, wandering to the suitcase in the corner as he went out. She didn't have much at all. The clothes she came in, the outfit of Ed's that Trisha had given her, and a couple old sundresses of Winry's that smelled kind of… old. Oddly, Ami liked the smell; it reminded her of her closet back home.

- Cut -

Life in Risembool wasn't so bad, Ami decided. It was very different, though.

So far, she hadn't gone to school. There was no difficult assignment for her to strive to finish, and there were no nuns yelling at her. Her sister wasn't here to dress her up, do her hair, steal her toys, or pester her. Beth Bennett didn't nag nearly as much as her mom, or hurt her feelings by saying things that made her feel self conscious or like she was a failure.

At the same time, though, she missed a lot of things.

Jack Bennett Sr. was a nice man, but he wasn't as nice as her dad. He didn't like hugs, and he worked all the time. He didn't want to play games at night because he was tired from working, and he hated dogs. Ami had asked him once to tuck her in, only to be reminded that she was seven years old, and it was time to buck up. She'd thrown a fit about it—something that worked on her dad all the time—and had gotten a spanking and time out.

Reggie wasn't there to make her feel better about it, which was a heartbreaking realization. She'd almost gone to Jack, before remembering he was a big kid. No matter how nice he was, older kids just didn't get it.

In the end, she really missed her family; even Kara and her mother.

Without Kara harassing her constantly, she found herself getting more and more bored, and her hair getting more and more nasty and uncute. She'd grown to miss make-up and skirts and Pikachu onesies, and having a sister to yell at.

Her mom may have been a bit of a bitch sometimes, but when it came down to it, she always was a mom, right? She just worked a lot and smoked a lot. Maybe it was her way of being caring somehow. Then again, maybe if Ami hadn't fought with her so much, she'd have been nicer…

No matter how unfair her parents had seemed, at least they'd never made her do all these crazy chores, or deprived her of cookies. At least they'd never tried telling her something didn't exist, or that she was crazy. At least they'd only sent her to her room and not spanked her.

Ami didn't get the Bennetts, it seemed. She wanted to go home, but dared not mention it; it only started fights and more insisting that Canada didn't exist, and that she was crazy or lying.

_She wasn't crazy; she knew she wasn't._

_Her family wasn't a lie, her family was real!_

After almost a month of living with them, they really began enforcing her new, adopted name.

Amilia Bennett.

_Amilia Bennett. _

Not Amira Curroff.

She could still be Ami, yes, but not Amira or a Curroff. Amira was too weird of a name, they said; it sounded almost Ishvallen, or maybe like something from Drachma. Curroff was just strange, too, and not their family name.

_Amilia Bennett, their adorable daughter, needed to share their family name._

Canada was not allowed to be discussed, and mention of Kara, Reggie, her mom and dad, Catholic school, Melody, her cousin Karl, Harry Potter, and everything else from her old world would lead to a spanking. She was part of Amestris now, and belonged to her Risembool family…

Not anything else.

At first, the idea terrified Ami. These people were really staking claims and making her part of their family. She hadn't thought she'd mind them, but suddenly…

_Suddenly she was really missing Trisha Elric and Miss Pinako._

- Cut -

"Hey, you look kind of sick." Jack commented one day. They'd been going into town to get some oil for his dad's leg, and he'd let her tag along. "What's wrong?"

Ami shrugged, pouting a bit. "I don't like it here."

"… I see."

"I wanna go home, I wanna go home." The redhead mumbled indignantly, crossing her arms. "I don't wanna be here forever. I miss my own daddy, yours is mean."

"He's just strict, it's not so bad." Jack argued, a bit defensive. "You know, most people around here would slap their kids around for throwing hissy fits like you do. Consider yourself lucky!"

"My parents never did that! They never would spank my sister, and they'd never spank me, no matter what we did!" Ami snapped, glaring. "We had a dog, and I miss him, too! He doesn't bite like your goat does. And my parents… they'd never try to change my name!"

Jack frowned, attempting to pat her head, only to find her jerking away from the hold. "Hey, come on… They just really wanna be your parents." He frowned, eying her. "Mom wanted a daughter for a long time, and I wanted a sister… Maybe they're going about it wrong, but they just want you to be in the family."

"I don't wanna be in your family though!" Ami whimpered. "I want _my_ family! I want _my_ parents!" She insisted, crossing her arms.

The taller boy stared, eyes wide. The words really did cut. They shouldn't have, but they really did.

"Your parents are either weird or fake, according to _my_ parents." Jack grumbled, looking away. He felt kind of bitter. Maybe his parents weren't the greatest, but he couldn't help but be offended that this redhead didn't even want to try and be his sister. "Fifteen sens that your parents don't even exist." He added without thought.

Ami's already downtrodden expression changed to something far more depressed.

_Had Jack really just said something so…?_

"I-I'm not c-crazy, and I-I'm not lying, Jack!" Ami tried to shout, voice cracking. "M-my mom and d-dad _are_ real… S-so's my sister… and my doggie… and TV…"

Immediately, Jack felt guilty; he usually prided himself on being kind, right? Why was he saying something so mean to a kid? He looked back at her, and the guilt only grew when he saw the way tears and snot ran down her face.

_Nice one, Junior. You made a seven year old girl cry. Real nice._

"H-hey, I'm sorry…" Jack gulped, crouching down in front of her. Reluctantly, he reached up and wiped her face with his sleeve, holding back a grimace at the thought of the goo now on his shirt. Ami looked at him sadly, wheezing and sniffling in an oddly humorous but sad way. She looked so pathetic yet comical, Jack didn't know whether to smile or cry with her.

"I didn't mean to make you cry, kiddo… If it means anything, really, I _do_ believe you! My parents don't believe in aliens, but I do…"

"W-what the heck do you mean by 'aliens'? Are y-you calling me one?" She sniffled again, looking confused.

"Yes. I have never seen a better example of an extra terrestrial."

"…What the heck, Jack?" Ami asked with a sniffle.

"Ah, well… I mean that I think you're from a different planet." Jack said, frowning. "I read this fantasy book some soldier had when they came through about a year ago. It talked about people from other worlds. They're usually short—something you have down pretty well—and all pasty and blue. Well, the latter doesn't apply to you, but I think you're from a different plant, world, or universe all the same."

"_Really?_" The smaller girl gasped in amazement. To her, Jack's idea made perfect sense. "Huh, maybe you're right, Jack! Back home, they talk about aliens too… You'd be considered the alien to me, and I'm considered the alien to you!"

"Exactly!" Jack nodded, smiling. "If we can figure out where you're from, then there's definitely hope. Maybe we can find out how to get you home! I mean, I do want you to be my little sister… but if you have a family that misses you… and at the risk of our world being attacked to get you back… I think giving you back would be for the best. Of course, we could still be in contact, I'm sure, so it's not like we'd lose each other…" He mused, thinking hard. "There definitely should be a way to get you back."

"There probably is, like in movies. There must be some sort of transport device… like a rocket or something, maybe!" Ami nodded eagerly, bouncing in place with a grin.

Jack smiled, patting her head.

"See? We came to an agreement. We're already better off than most siblings who fight all the time and never resolve it."

"…" Ami blinked, pouting a bit and trying to fix her hair. "Jack, why do you want a sister so bad?" She asked innocently.

Jack blinked, before shrugging; absentmindedly, he prayed to whatever god there was that he didn't look like a fool with the obvious blush he could feel on his face.

"I guess… I guess being lonely never suited me." He mumbled, before walking off.

Ami stared after him, before attempting to catch up. Suddenly, everything seemed a lot better. At least she had Jack.

- Cut -

_Four Months Later_

"It really is hot out, huh?"

"Yeah, for real! I can't believe I'm going to have to walk all the way home in this weather!"

"I don't wanna do this extra homework, but my mom's gonna go _nuts_ if I don't…"

Jack Bennett sighed as he wandered out of the small school house, ignoring the kids complaining beside him. He couldn't blame them though—at least, for their complaints regarding the weather. He was far too grateful for his education to whine about the schoolwork. It was what he wanted, after all.

_In a few years, I'll go join the military, and use them to get into college. _He mused, smiling a bit to himself. _Eventually, I'll marry a cute city girl, and we'll vanish. It might be cruel, but I refuse to be a farmer…_

"Bennett? Hey, Bennett."

He blinked, looking to the blonde girl from the class above him with a small. "Yeah, Elise?"

"Your sister is waiting for you over at my parents' shop again." She sighed, shaking her head. "Can you try to keep her out of there? She's making our guard dog soft."

Jack felt a bit of sweat roll down his face as he chuckled awkwardly. _Ami, when're you gonna get it? _"Sorry, Elise. I promise, she won't be over there again."

"Yeah, yeah." Elise Frances shook her head again, waving him off. "Whatever. I'm not holding it against you, Junior. You've been too nice to me for me to hold a grudge on. But, unfortunately, my dad isn't the same way." She smiled almost teasingly, ruffling his hair before going off, waving to him a bit.

_Nice girl, _he thought, before going on.

True enough to Elise's word, Ami was hanging out by Frances Books—_again_—playing with the burly old dog as if he was a tiny little thing, and not as tall as she was.

"Hey, Ami," he sighed, "didn't we tell you not to play with the dog?"

"I know, brother…" The redhead frowned, hugging the doggie around the neck lovingly. Her face echoed some sort of absolute heartbreak—one only understood by the truest of dog lovers. "It's just, Samuel is such a good dog! I don't get why they'd want him to be mean! He's so soft and snuggly and he always smells like coffee and cigarettes, which is soooo cool, and—!"

"Ami." He cut off, sighing again. "Seriously, just don't play with the dog. We'll get in trouble."

Ami looked agonized at the thought, though nodded and reluctantly pulled away, giving the large dog a light kiss.

"Okay… Bye bye, Samuel…" She mumbled, moving back to by Jack. "I'll miss you…"

The dog gave a sad bark, as if it understood; Jack shook the notion of an animal having any comprehension of human speech besides basic commands off. It was just dumb.

"Come on, we need to get home." Jack said, grabbing her arm and pulling her off. "Thanks for coming to wait for me again; I like it when you walk home with me."

"Sure, anytime." Ami blinked, ripping her arm from his hold before jumping onto his back with so much ease that it scared the brunette boy a bit. "So, what chores are we doing today, brother? Are we milking cows again?"

"Dunno, dad didn't say." He shrugged as best he could with a ginger hanging from his neck. "Oh yeah, I got you a new journal to write stuff about your home in…"

"For your research, right, brother?"

Jack nodded. "Yep. I promised I'd help you, didn't I?" He chuckled, grinning widely. "When I'm in the military, I'm sure those notes will come in handy."

"Okay…" Ami blinked, playing with a loose string on his shirt now. "Say, brother? Aren't the military supposed to be bad guys?" She asked lowly, a bit of a hum in her voice. Jack couldn't help but find the casual way she said it to be a bit eerie. "I mean, dad and mom said that they're hurting a lot of people on accident while getting rid of those mean Ishvallen people, and taking over farms and stuff… Our teacher says that it's wrong to hurt the Ishvallens, because they're good people, but that's not right, right? I mean, dad said that the Ishvallens are murderers and terrorists. Didn't they kill Winry's parents?" Ami frowned now as she rested her head on Jack's shoulder, nuzzling against his neck lightly with closed eyes. "Ah… I don't know if the Ishval people are bad, but they seem like it… Wait, what was I asking again? Darn it!"

"You asked if the military was bad." Jack reminded a bit solemnly.

"Oh, yeah… Well, are they?"

He thought for a moment, biting his lip, before sighing.

"I guess I don't really know. I mean, accidents happen and innocent people—both Amestrian and Ishvallen—are killed everyday." He said seriously, looking up at the sky. "I guess they're doing their best to keep our country safe…."

"So they're good, then?"

"…I'd say so." Jack sighed. "But all the same, don't take what dad and mom and their friends say about the Ishvallens so seriously. There are good and bad people of all races and religions, and you can't judge what side they're on by their skin color or because they're fighting _our _government to save their country, race and religion." He explained as best he could. _I hope I'm right here, or I'm leading a kid on into something false, _he thought, before going on to say, "I don't really know what else to tell you, honestly, except not to buy into that racism."

"I suppose that makes sense." Ami mumbled. "But I heard that Ishvallens have red eyes… That sounds so scary…"

"And you have red hair." Jack argued. "I was a little weirded out when I saw _you._ I've never seen that hair color before."

"It's not uncommon in my world… Oh, wait, now I see your point!" Ami gasped in amazement, before hugging him tighter. "Thanks, brother!"

"Anytime. What else are big brothers for, after all, Ami?"

Ami smiled, nuzzling him again. "Yeah! I'm glad you're my brother now, Jack. You're so cool!"

"…" Immediately, the poor brunette's face heated, and he chuckled awkwardly. This was another reason Jack wanted a little sister; he wanted to be praised for whenever he could be helpful. He wanted to make someone smile and have bonds. "T-thanks…"

The redhead hummed some tune he'd never heard before, and he chuckled.

She hadn't said anything on it for a long, long time, it seemed… but Jack really, really hoped that now, Ami was a bit happier to be a Bennett. _Or at least a little less reluctant._

_Maybe she'll never want to go home—if that home even exists, I mean. _He wondered hopefully, before shaking the thoughts off.

He supposed he couldn't be too possessive with her forever.

- Cut -

Time continued to pass for Ami. Winter came and went without much event—mostly because, to her sadness, these people had never even heard of Christmas, and new years wasn't widely celebrated except by the rich and bored, which they were not of either group—and spring had almost passed. She spent the time that wasn't being used to hang out with Jack to play with Ed and Al. Both brothers had been trying to teach her alchemy, but to little avail.

"_Just try a little harder, Ami!" Al insisted sadly, a little confused. "I'm sure you'll get better if you keep trying!"_

"_It's no use, Al." Ed said seriously, making the younger two kids jump, before he laughed madly. "The cherry-head just sucks at it! Ha!"_

_Al gasped. "Brother, that's mean!"_

"Yeah." Ami deadpanned, crossing her arms. "Don't say I suck! I'll punch you in the face!"

"_N-no need to be violent," the blonde laughed, "it's not a judgment, Bennett, it's an observation! You're just dumb, nothing wrong with that."_

"_Don't call me 'Bennett', and don't call me dumb!"_

Eventually, Trisha decided that maybe when the kids played, they should leave alchemy out of it. Ami only would throw fits and start fights whenever Ed pulled out his ego, and it led to nonsense all around.

"_So, Ami, how are you doing?" She'd asked one day. "I see you and Jack are getting on fine."_

"_I guess so." Ami grinned at the woman, a light pink coming to her cheeks at the mention of her 'older brother'. "I like Jack Jr. He's a good brother and he gives me piggy back rides. He's nice."_

"_How about your new parents?"_

_The silence that ensued was awkward._

"… _They're fine. They changed my name, but I'll get over it. I have Jack now!"_

At least things were happier now, though… for a while.

A few weeks after their last play date, Ami heard from Winry Rockbell that Trisha had collapsed and gotten very ill.

A few weeks after that, Ed and Al weren't at school.

"_Where are Alphonse and Edward?" Ami asked Winry, wandering to the table where the blonde girl and the Elric brothers usually sat for class. "Are they out sick or somethin'?"_

"_D-didn't you hear?" Winry asked meekly; her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, and already watering up again. "Ami… Trisha died a few days ago?"_

"…"

_Ami's head spun at the thought. But Trisha was so young—! Surely she couldn't have been so sick that she _died, _right?_

"_W-was she really that ill?"_

"_Granny said it was an illness that she'd had for a long time… She didn't tell anyone." Winry shook her, choking back a sob. "Poor Ed and Al—! I h-haven't seen them since, b-but I know how they feel…"_

"_Y-yeah… I sorta know, I guess…" Ami mumbled. She'd lost her family, sort of, but they weren't dead like Winry's parents were. Maybe she didn't know as much as she thought she did. "Are… are they having a funeral? Jack and I will definitely come…"_

"_Yeah." Winry nodded, sniffling. "For Ed and Al, at l-least… Ed a-and Al…"_

_Ami crossed her arms, shivering a bit._

"_For Miss Trisha, too. For Miss Trisha…"_

_Trisha, the one who'd taken her in temporarily, and had believed in her… The only person besides Jack she confided freely in… The only person besides Jack who'd tried to help her find her home._

"…" _Ami rubbed at her eye weakly, gulping back her own tears as Winry cried freely._

The funeral had been really weird. Ami had never been to one before, and neither had Jack; the Bennett kids stood to the side a bit, feeling incredibly underdressed. Even Edward and Alphonse were in nice clothes, it seemed.

It was heartbreaking to think such a good person could die, really. Ami wasn't sure how to feel about it; all she knew was she missed Trisha Elric, and wished that the brothers hadn't had to lose their mom. It was all too sad and confusing and… familiar.

She looked at Trisha's grave, and then at all the other ones around her. For some reason, it gave her a headache, and a heavy sense of nostalgia.

It felt as if she'd been here before, but she knew she never had…

"_My baby girl… My sweet, sweet baby girl…" Ami's mom bent over the coffin, smiling sadly as she place the pretty pink daisies on it. "I'm sorry… I really am. You must hate me, don't you? I'm sorry." She whispered._

_That can't be a memory, _Ami thought, shaking her head. It was more like a dream; when did her mom cry like that? When did her mother apologize, or whisper loving things to anyone? Ami had never seen it…

"_I love you, I really do." The blonde woman's voice cracked. She rubbed her eyes, chuckling bitterly. "I want you to know first. I'm having a baby, sweetie. You're going to be a big sister."_

Ami knew that this had to be some weird dream. She shook her head, looking along the graves again. That was far too out of character for the mother she knew!

She deduced that that the feeling of familiarity—nostalgia, or whatever it was called—was just her remembering some movie and mixing up the actress with her mother. That _had _to be it.

"_I'm sorry I yelled at you so much. I'm sorry I didn't pull you out of there myself. I'm sorry if it seems like this baby is gonna replace you." The voice was hoarse now. "I hope you'll f-forgive me and daddy… We made mistakes. A lot- a lot of mistakes..! God dammit, Amira! A- Ami…"_

"…mi? Ami?"

Ami blinked, shaking her head a bit and looking up at Jack. How had she not heard him talking to her? _She must really have been ADD, like he mom said… _Ah…

"Yes, brother?" She asked softly, blinking.

"You're crying, Ami." Jack mumbled, rubbing at her cheek with his sleeve. "Were you and Miss Elric close or something?"

Ami shrugged, putting a hand to the wet spot she was now aware of on the cheek Jack had yet to rub. Had she really gotten so worked up over a silly daydream? "It's okay," she mumbled at his concerned look.

Glancing around, Ami noticed that the people were leaving. Only Ed and Al were still sitting at the grave, looking solemn.

"Let's leave them alone, Jack…" Ami mumbled, tugging him off quietly. "I-I don't feel well, anyways…"

"_My baby girl… My sweet, sweet baby girl…"_

"Let's get home then for sure. We'll see if you're running a temperature."

"_My sweet baby girl…"_

"That sounds good."

"_God dammit, Amira! A- Ami… Ami!"_

Jack bent down, allowing her to climb on his back with a smile. "Come on, then. To home." He smiled a bit wider, though it was sad; the funeral was still egging at him—he couldn't imagine losing his family so young…—and he was now feeling worried about his sister. _One thing after another today, I guess… _he mused as Ami got on his back.

He didn't bother telling her that she was shaking like a leaf against him.

Even if he had, Ami probably wouldn't have heard; she was too absorbed in these dream-like, strange memories that she'd never known she'd had until seeing those graves… It was like the funeral had dug out something she'd tried to forget, like in the movies.

She bit her lip to hold back a whimper, closing her eyes tightly.

Her mother's voice echoed in her head, repeating the same 'I love yous' and strange apologies from before, not giving her aching head a rest for one moment.

_Just what the heck is wrong with me..?_

- Cut -

Jack watched the young ginger girl sleep soundly; he was glad she'd finally been able to rest. He didn't know what had caused that near outburst today, but it had definitely upset her.

"Momma… M-momma…"

He blinked, peeking into her room again like some worried mother hen, and sighed.

Just who was this girl, really? He'd never thought too much on it, and he'd soon dismissed her as an alien…

All he could see now was a pathetic little girl, begging for attention and obviously missing quite a few screws from her head—or maybe it would be better to say she was like a jigsaw puzzle missing a lot of the important pieces.

_Come to think of it, she really only remembers the bigger, obvious details of her family as of late… She's forgotten quite a bit of her original home so easily, and when she reads the diary, it's like she's reading some of them for the first time. _He noted with a frown, holding his chin in a thoughtful way. _She can't be lying—I _know _she's not lying—and she's definitely not crazy either, I'm sure of that…_

Jack sighed, shaking his head.

Just what the hell was really going on? He wondered if he would ever live to find out the truth—whatever that was here.

_I suppose time will tell…_

* * *

A/n: Hope you guys enjoyed; I can really promise that next chapter will be a lot more exciting… It's something "new". It's not Ami, and it's not Jack… Going on that, ah… Speaking of, I hope you got your fill of them; the next couple of chapters, they're going to be disappearing. Actually—it's more than the next _couple_ of chapters. Ami and Jack will be taking a nice, semi-long vacation.

Jack: We've worked hard as "actors", and I know we both are tired. Emotional scenes like this are exhausting for newbies like me, and young girls like Ami need breaks. :3

Ami: I may be playin' a seven year old, but ya know I'm not really a kid, right? =w=;

Jack: Ahahahahaha… ^^;; Yes. Anyways, thank you all for your support! We'll see you soon… hopefully!

Dice: Anyways! ;D

Thank you all for reading. Reviews are nice, flames discouraged. And happy early Valentine's day!


	8. Chapter Six: Demented Blessing

A/n: Well, here we go! I'd like to apologize for how short this chapter is. I'm still sort of getting in the groove of writing Harris. He's rather complicated for me to write—especially as a kid. I hope you guys enjoy this, though, despite the blatant cliché-ness of it. Next chapter is better, though, otl.

No disclaimer because I'm lazy! Also, there's another new poll on my profile page! Please vote if you have time.

Reviews are amazing! 30th reviewer gets a prize. :3

* * *

**Arc Two: Harris Klein  
Chapter Six: Demented Blessing **

_Cross the Line – Superchick_

He hated his life.

It wasn't that he was depressed. He wasn't suicidal at all. It's just…

He hated everything his existence represented down to the very core of it all.

The mere _thought _of what he was made him sick, just as it made him the target of mockery; there was no secret about what his mother was, or what he was, or how he was made.

"_Going home so soon, Klein?" The kids laughed. "Its still part of the work day, isn't it? Sure you won't walk in on your mom taking it?"_

"_He's probably used to watching guys bang his mom by now!"_

"_She's been with every guy in town. For all we know, he's one of our brothers!"_

"_Haha! Who wants to be the whore's son's brother or sister? Not me! Why don't you head back, Klein, so you can make sure some man doesn't cheat your mom out of her two sens!"_

"_Shut up!"_

"_Mommy's little helper, eh?"_

"_Fuck off, all of you!"_

He hated this world, and he hated his mother for forcing life onto him.

He hated her for not keeping her legs closed.

He hated her for letting him be born.

- Cut -

A young boy sat in the grass, sighing as the loud moans came from the house. He'd gotten home from school just now, and had to return to this sort of idiocy again? He sneered, obviously in a great state of contempt.

It was sickening. _Absolutely sickening._ This disgusting lifestyle, his disgusting existence…

_Why did he tolerate it still? Why didn't he leave?_

It's not like that _whore _was forcing him to stay here. It's not like he had a reason to stay, either. Not anymore.

He brushed back his blonde hair with a sigh, frowning at the house again. The sounds of current ecstasy may have been exciting to someone else, but it made his stomach churn.

He barely managed to get into the house without vomiting.

"Hey there, Harris. You're home early."

Harris grimaced at the muscular, tan man sitting at the plain wooden table. _Why is he in my house? _"I suppose." He mumbled, averting his chocolate-brown eyes. Even his ten year old self was aware of what that man could do to him, for even the stupidest reason. "Is my mom… working or something?"

As if he couldn't tell.

The man laughed simply, and a shiver went down Harris' spine. "Yeah, she's a good worker."

_Bastard! She's still my mother! Don't talk about her like that! _A part of Harris wanted to scream. A childish part of him. A very weak, nearly nonexistent part. The dominant part couldn't give a shit what that whore did, so long as this pimp didn't tell him.

"…" Harris shook his head, hurrying towards his room past the dirty kitchen.

"Hey, kid! Where are you off to in such a rush?"

_Why is it any of _your_ business?_

"I need to do homework." He half-lied in a mumble, slamming the door behind him. He sighed in relief when it seemed that the man hadn't tried to follow him.

_What's that bastard's name, anyways?_ Harris wondered. He'd heard him called by at least six different names or titles. _Like it really matters though. He can die, for all I care…_

He looked around the near-empty room, frowning.

"I'm leaving. I'm leaving." He told himself, shaking his head.

Harris had to leave. If he didn't, he'd be sucked into this shit, just like his mom. He couldn't let that happen; he refused to be anything like her.

Harris Klein would _definitely_ be better than that.

- Cut -

**Two Months Later**

The town was alight and bustling; everything was decorated for some strange celebration that, say, an _outsider_ would not really know of. People were gathered in the streets, clogging around various vendors to either chitchat, or purchase food and trinkets. Loud laughter filled the air, and the smells of cooking meats, cigars and alcohol filled the air.

Harris Klein curled behind a large trash bin in the alley, nose wrinkling as the smells from the street—such beautiful, mouthwatering smells—filled his nose, mixing with the horrible smell of the garbage beside him. His stomach growled loudly, and he winced in pain; _he was so hungry…_

It had only been a few weeks since Harris had left his mother's home. Tired of the poverty, the pimps, and being discriminated against for being the town whore's son, he'd abandoned that woman without so much as back glance. Living on the streets was difficult—at least with his mother there were three regular meals a day—but he was definitely better off here, he was sure of that.

Brushing some of the dirty blonde hair from his eyes, Harris watched the people bustling about in the streets with envy. What he wouldn't give to be like them! Happy, full, and with some sens in his pocket to spare on whatever he liked.

_Someday, I'll be rich too, _he thought bitterly, frowning at the sight of some parents buying their children food, _and then these people will be buying from me…_

The thought was pleasant enough to sooth him a bit as he resisted the urge to vomit; he had to keep whatever he had in him down, or else he'd just get sicker.

One of his mother's clients was a soldier, and talked a lot about what it was like to be fighting in Ishval; he told Harris all about what they had to do to keep from starving or getting malnourished in the field. The stories of men forced to eat vomit were enough to make bile rise in anyone's throats, and the thought made Harris' own gagging worse. _No, no, no, he had to hold back!_

Once the shaky feeling passed, he stood, coughing a bit. He hadn't eaten in about five days, so maybe this was to be expected.

_I need to steal something… _He realized, sighing. He had wanted to avoid getting any sort of reputation in this town for as long as he could—the police here were brutal as hell—but he figured he had to try.

"_Thieves are lower than prostitutes," Lydia Klein told her son as he sat on the crate. She primped her blonde curls with her right hand, while the left hold the cheap cigarette. Harris noticed the way men—and women—watched her with knowing eyes; some aroused, some disgusted. His mother tugged at her long skirt with a huff. "Never be a thief, Harris, whatever you become." She smiled at him, brown eyes twinkling. _

_Did she even notice how people looked at her?_

"_Yeah. Right, mother." He nodded, before frowning. "Mother, do I look like my dad?"_

He cut off his thoughts right there.

Harris didn't like the idea of stealing, really—thievery being the scum of all sins had been something he was taught from a young age—but he figured he really had to resort to it. He had to eat somehow after all, and no one seemed willing to take on an extra hand, not even during the busiest season for merchants of all times! It was definitely a bad sign for him…

_I'll swipe a wallet, no big deal! _He told himself, eying some drunken men near an alleyway.

The would do just fine, he was sure of it by the way they slurred their overly loud words and stumbled about, clapping each other on the shoulder or back and singing jovially.

_A perfect target for a boy the age of almost-ten._

Harris watched the men carefully, like a cat stalking a mouse almost. He was just waiting for one of them to break away from the group, or do something that he could catch them on.

It didn't take long for one to decide to move away from the others; he shouted something about going home that Harris could barely make out amongst the crowd, but he could still understand. He nodded to himself, looking around for something to fight with—_just in case._

Picking up an abandoned beer bottle, Harris noted the potential of the object before smashing it against the wall carelessly. It shattered, leaving only the neck and upper half. The noise went unnoticed by the crowd, drowned out by the laughter and music and cheers. Even less noticed it seemed was Harris scampering across the street into the alley his wasted target had gone down just a few short moments before.

Harris couldn't let this one get away. It was his best chance so far!

Time seemed to fast forward in his mind as he neared the alleyway, closing in on the drunk. Shakily, his hand reached out and he snatched the wallet out of the man's back pocket, fist barely brushing the adult's back—

"Hey!" The man slurred, whipping around to face Harris.

Harris gulped, fist clenching the wallet as brown eyes widened, looking at the man. "I-I—!"

"_I" what? What would you say? "I'm sorry for trying to rob you, let's just forget about it, 'kay?"_

_Like that would go over well!_

"Gimme my wallet, ya little thievin' brat!" He shouted, stumbling at Harris. His large grubby fists were outstretched towards the boy; one aimed for the wallet, the other for the tiny neck.

Gasping, Harris dodged his attempt at grabbing, waving his broken bottle at the drunk; he didn't seem to affected by the boy's makeshift weapon, _especially _considering the small dagger he was removing from his own belt.

"I said give back my wa—wallet!" He slurred.

"It's mine!" Harris shouted over the crowd noise, slashing with the bottle in a panic.

_He needed this money. He needed the money. He needed it for food and shelter and clothes. Harris needed this money to live! Why wouldn't this man see that he needed it more? At least the old drunk probably had a job and a house! Harris had absolutely nothing… _

Why couldn't he have a few stolen sens? Was the world so cruel that he couldn't be excused for stealing?

"_Thieves are lower than prostitutes, Harris," _his mother chided him in his head.

No, no! He was definitely doing this! He had to!

With a new fire of determination, Harris lunged forward, bottle digging the man in the stomach. There was a strange sound—the sound of glass puncturing flesh—followed by the drunk's gasp. The boy grinned maliciously, grabbing the man's hand that held the knife, and without a thought he used the shock to shove the man's hand back.

The small dagger, formerly such a source of concern to Harris, now plunged into the drunk man's chest.

Harris let the older fellow fall, panting. He looked down at his shirt.

_Blood. Blood. Blood._

_I have blood on my clothes. On my hands._

_I need to run._

The thought of how much trouble this "innocent" robbery—this accident—could get him in nearly made Harris scream. He checked quickly to make sure he still had the wallet in his hand—he did—and then he checked to see if anyone on the street was watching. No one seemed to have even seen. The fight had yet to be noticed, as had the murder.

_Murder, murder._

_I'm a murderer._

Harris wanted to check for a few more sens in the man's pockets. He really did. There was just no time for such frivolities.

He raced down the alley, short of breath and nearly in a panic attack.

_Nice one, Klein! You stole, you killed… You're a murderer!_

Not stopping even when he stumbled and twisted his ankle, Harris continued his run. No one could know he was the murderer. He just wanted to hide in a hole.

_He missed his mom…_

Soon, he came to an empty alley far from the festival. He collapsed on the hard rock ground, not minding his now scraped knees as he rolled on his back, catching his breath. He let out a hysteric, frightened sort of giggle.

_What had he done? _

_What had he done?_

Harris inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to regulate his breathing again; it almost hurt to do so. His lungs felt raw and his side burned, as did his legs. He had blood all over him, and the irony smell—and taste—was sickening.

"I did it…" he whispered to himself. "I got the money!"

That was what mattered the most, right?

_Yeah. Yeah…_

No one would miss that dumb old drunk, he was sure. He'd be fine. He'd leave town, _just in case,_ but he'd be fine.

He smiled as he breathed, closing his eyes in exhaustion.

"_Mother, do I look like my dad?"_

_Lydia Klein blinked, looking at him for a moment. He saw absolute sadness flash over her face for a moment, and his heart sunk. Had he hurt his mother by asking such a question? Harris knew that with her line of work, the odds of knowing who his dad was might have been impossible, but he had to ask—_

"_You do."_

_The words slammed into him like an ice-cold tidal wave._

"_You have my eyes and hair, but your face… Your smile… You look just like your father."_

"_W-what's his name? Where is he?"_

_She smiled at the boy, and ruffled his hair. "Don't worry about it, Harris! You've got me, right? I love you so much, Harris. You're my little blessing."_

_**A whore's blessing.**_


	9. Chapter Seven: Long Live the King

A/n: I am so sorry that this chapter is so late. I took a hiatus for the earthquakes earlier in the month, and when I came back to update, there were these error two messages! I meant to update yesterday, but then my keyboard died! Instead of waiting until next Sunday, I decided to post this today—on a Monday. Sorry for the delay and the schedule changes.

As an apology, here is an extra long chapter! Hope you guys enjoy. The backstory ends soon.

Disclaimer: Too lazy. You get the idea.

If you see any grammatical errors, feel free to tell me! Note, some errors in speech (not typos) are just improper speech patterns. Kids don't speak grammatically, after all. :/

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Long Live the King**

"_I'm almost never serious, and I'm always too serious. Too deep, too shallow. Too sensitive, too cold hearted. I'm like a collection of paradoxes." __- Ferdinand von Schrubentaufft_

- Page Cut -

The blonde boy sat in his throne proudly, the fur-lined cape made of some sort of soft velvet draped over his side. The crown was ever so slightly askew on his head, and waves of long blonde waves—like the silk imported from Xing—washed down his back.

To his right was his beautiful young wife, holding their baby. She was Ishvallen, he noted absently, and he was surprised to find happiness fill him instead of fear or hatred. She was dressed in fine silks and lace and looked ever so regal, holding one of their children gently.

To his left, bowing down and looking miserable, was a faceless older man. Despite the fact his was faceless, the boy knew this was Bradley, the _former_ Führer.

Past Bradley was another man, this one less slave-like and more like a miserable naked prisoner, chained to the wall.

The boy chuckled. _You deserve it for what you did to her._

He couldn't help but think that this was all too perfect. It was his ideal lifestyle—his ideal world, even. He breathed in, closing his eyes. The boy felt successful and proud. He felt like an absolute god, one could even say; _I am king. There is nothing better._

Opening his eyes, he surveyed his kingdom. The gathering of people in the room stopped their conversation—he hadn't even heard the voices before—and turned to look at him, smiling brightly. The smiles were filled with love and warmth, and he knew then that he was truly happy.

"Long live our glorious king!" They cheered, raising their wine glasses to him.

"Long live our king, for without him our kingdom would no be so wondrous!" A melodic female voice said from the crowd.

A small laugh chimed from somewhere. "Long live our king, for without him we would not be so prosperous."

"_Long live our beloved king!"_

- Page Cut -

Harris' eyes opened. He blinked once, twice, clearing his vision a bit.

It was oddly quiet in the city. He smiled slightly at the low hum in the distance as he forced himself to sit up; his whole body ached, especially his legs. He must have done more running than he realized. His hands hurt, too—he'd been clenching that money in his hands so tightly, even in his sleep… The bigger sens had cut into his palm slightly.

Harris rolled his eyes and brushed his hand off on his pants as he stood, before stretching. "Wonder if it's too soon to spend this money…" He mused aloud, groaning lightly as he stretched his arms above his head. "Maybe I ought to cut to the next town for safety."

He pondered this as he found an alley hose plug, turning it on with a bit of effort. He splashed his face with the water, then rinsed his mouth with it, then drank a bit. The taste was absolutely horrible, but definitely better than nothing. Better than dehydrating, especially; he'd learned about it once in school. It didn't sound fun at all.

"What to do…" He murmured, looking to the sky. There were quite a few towns nearby—the west of Amestris was good for that, at least—but he didn't know if they'd be as safe for street kids as this one was.

He walked down the streets, whistling a strange tune. He passed by a gathering of police officers, and chuckled. They'd found his handiwork from last night.

Harris couldn't believe he'd killed someone for a few sens. It was probably a really silly thing for him to do. But—in his mind—it was quite necessary; his stomach growled lowly, almost as proof to that belief of his. He sighed. "I guess I should get some food." He decided, shaking his head ever so slightly before going into a nearby bar. It seemed to be the only place open this afternoon.

Sure enough, when he stepped in, it seemed like all of the people who would normally be on the streets of this town were inside having an afternoon drink. With much confidence, Harris wandered up to the bar, taking a seat on the stool next to a rugged young man bearing a large, smelly rucksack.

"One whisky," Harris said to the bartender with a grin, slamming a majority of his sens onto the bar with great pride. "And all the food the leftover cash buys!"

"You can have the food and water, kid. I don't serve unaccompanied minors." The bartender said in a deep voice that made Harris feel a bit intimidated. Harris frowned, obviously disappointed; he'd wanted to try alcohol so badly…

He laid his head on the bar while he waited, absently wondering whether the old wood was softer than the ground he'd slept on.

"So you're serious about that, kid?" A voice asked in a hoarse whisper from nearby. "All that business… A new empire, a better world?"

"I am." A smooth voice said from beside him. "My father's vision that is shared by our group is just that. We don't want power or money, just a safe country without discrimination or wars—as cliché as that dream may sound, it is possible! Führer Bradley is going to be nothing more than a war lord, I assure you. This is why he must be unseated and our country turned into a democracy, sir."

_That almost makes sense._

"I suppose."

"Really though, it's more or less about the Ishvallens and soldiers dying senselessly—and for a war that should never have happened, no less." The smoother voice sounded saddened. "My brothers—Henry, Luke, and Matthew—all died for this war unnecessarily. My father has seen countless others experiencing the grief that we have. It… it doesn't need to happen, but Bradley lets it. He wants it, actually. He's… I don't even know."

The honesty and compassion in his tone was overwhelming. Even a child like Harris could hear it, and feel it with the same power as a grown man.

As the rugged male continued speaking in his smooth voice, explaining the other ideals and describing the manifesto of his organization—The Eastern Front for Peace and Liberation, a militia seeking a diverse, peaceful nation where everyone could be accepted and happy, and where death and war were things of the past—Harris found himself drawn in. Slowly, more people—even the bartender and police—were as well.

"Right now," the man said, "we've been involved in uprooting military control from the regions closer to warzones. This allows the shopkeepers to have control over their stock and profit, land to be returned to the farmers who own it, and families to rest safely knowing those men aren't in their town. That's nothing against the soldiers, but really… When those strong, armed men come down the streets in hoards with their weapons and the soulless looks in their eyes, don't you feel scared? Don't you worry about what they could do to your wives and children, or even you? I have heard one too many stories about what happens when a sweet girl gets caught by one of those men—"

"That's enough now!"

The crowd of huddled listeners jumped at the bartender's words. Harris made a whining sound, pouting a bit; he'd wanted to hear more of what the man had to say. He was addicted to his words and recounting of tales, his voice, and his pleasant smile…

When the crowd disbursed and the loud clamor of forks and plates and mugs returned, bringing with it the hum of voices, Harris decided that he had to speak with the young man.

Before he could, though, the man stood. "I'll see you lot later, I'm going to sleep now."

"Already?" Someone asked, laughing.

"I'm afraid so," he smiled sadly, raising a hand in a slight wave—almost defensively, actually. "I arrived only a few hours ago, remember? I'll be down by dinner, I promise."

And like that, he was half way across the room. Harris almost reached out for him, wishing that warm presence would return to his side. The man was up the stairs on the other side of the room, going up into an inn that the pub connected to.

_He'll be back by dinner, though. I can see him again. _Harris absorbed that knowledge with joy, heart-racing.

That sudden departure was painful, but it wouldn't be the last time he saw him.

- Page Cut –

By the time late afternoon rolled around, it was very hot outside; the sun was beating down on the city, and it brought with it great humidity. Harris momentarily missed his home; on days like this, he would absolutely love to soak in the small creek or simply bathe. He's enjoy ice cream if his mother let him have some, or just lay in the room with the fan while she…

_Mother, I hope you're holding up alright without me._

He shook his head, cheering himself up a bit with thoughts of his dream from last night.

"I want that dream to come true…" He mumbled quietly, shaking his head a bit. As if that would make the thought of living without that approving public—without the satisfaction of revenge—wasn't painful to him.

_That guy's group… They're going to take out the Führer, right?_

Harris paused, wondering whether he should even continue these thoughts for a moment. He then decided that yes, he should continue them—they were all he really had right now.

_I could use that to make my dream come true, like in those books I read._

Grinning, Harris leaned against a wall.

He'd decided already what he would do with his life from now on.

- Page Cut -

That night, Harris returned to the pub, just in time for the dinner hour to start. His hand fumbled with the last sens in his pocket as he passed the police station without a single worry—except for that he had little money left. _What a useless old gasbag that guy turned out to be! Not even a whole fifty on him!_

Wandering inside shyly, Harris found that the bar was a lot more crowded, and reeked of alcohol. He shook his head a bit, hating the way the cigar smoke actually burned his eyes. "Nasty."

"…And that was the day when those market bandits from the desert rolled in…"

Harris gasped softly, looking around. That was the young man's voice!

_I need to get close to him. I have to be able to talk to him if I want him to take me along with him!_

He awkwardly made his war towards the group of huddled men at the bar, smiling happily as he heard the man talk about an epic battle with the men from the desert, defending a homestead sort-of place and simultaneously taking out the small military police group there. Harris realized that this story had probably been told before he'd arrived earlier, judging by the whispered conversation of the men around him. He listened all the same, unable to pull away from the stories.

"Hey, Pete, tell them about the forced marriage in Arlington!" Another man laughed.

_Is his name Pete? _Harris wondered, eyes wide. Such an unfitting name, he decided.

"Oh, that's such a horrible story, though." 'Pete' shook his head, grimacing. "That poor girl was in such an awful condition, I just don't feel comfortable telling her story like this."

The man who had asked—Harris determined that it was one of 'Pete's' traveling companions—snorted, rolling his eyes and waving him off.

"Bah, she was a prostitute to begin with, right? I'd personally say the girl had it coming."

Those words struck a small cord with Harris, but he shook it off as the crowd erupted in agreeing laughter.

"All the same," 'Pete' sighed, "I won't discuss it."

Harris oddly admired him even more.

- Page Cut -

Harris sat in his seat, squirming as some of Pete's companions discussed sexual assaults by military groups. He wasn't as interested in hearing this, surprisingly—though, there was good reason; the man referred to as Pete—Harris' idol and current last source of hope—was sitting at the bar beside him, eating a sandwich. Harris had a smaller sandwich, though that was all he could afford. Because of the 'reduced price', he ended up with stale bread and very little meat. He knew he'd be hungry later, but he'd just have to deal with it, really.

He listened as Pete commented on how horrible it was for a married man to rape a poor girl while on duty. "The excuse of being deprived is absolutely horrible and disgusting. A real man stays loyal to his family and doesn't attack a defenseless woman because of his own needs."

_Exactly, _Harris internally grumbled. _Exactly that._

A slight argument was on the tip of Harris' tongue, but he bit it back for a short while. He waited patiently until everyone seemed back into their own conversations—until he and the man could have privacy. When that time came, he thought about what to say.

There was only one thing that was really on his mind—only one that he thought he knew enough about to discuss on the man's level. It was terrible to think that _this _was the thing he knew the most about, but…

"They don't just force it on the women, you know." Harris started off bluntly. It earned the man's attention.

He blinked curiously at Harris, tilting his head. "Excuse me, kid?"

"The soldiers." Harris clarified. "They don't just force it on women. Even if they're married, they pick up prostitutes or just regular easy women. They're all bastards."

"…I suppose." He chuckled. He held out a large, rough hand expectantly, smiling at Harris with a strange fondness. The blonde boy's face heated a bit as he accepted the shake. "I'm Peter Lunsford. And you are..?"

"Harris Klein," Harris blinked, smiling back at Peter, before spilling out, "I'm nine."

Peter laughed. "Wow! You look so much older than that!"

"You don't have to humor me. I know I'm still really a kid." Harris informed him, deadpan. He took a gulp of his water, before eying Jack seriously. "So, your militia… It sounds cool."

"Does it?" Peter wondered, blinking. "I don't mean to make it sound that way… It's a difficult lifestyle. A lot of secrecy and recruiting—you have to be careful, even in towns like this—and you have to work hard and train. It's even tougher than being a soldier; no one can no you exist."

It was obvious what the dark haired boy was trying to do.

Peter could see the spark in Harris' eyes—the dangerous spark that no child should have, given the context of the situation.

"I want in."

There was a pause.

Peter thought for a moment; he really didn't know what to say to this boy, though. The militia had taken in a few boys, but never this young. Child soldiers could be incredibly useful, but the idea put a horrible feeling in his gut… _Even we are fighting a war though, and in wars, dirty tactics must be used… Right? _Peter wished he could contact his father for advice right now.

He looked into Harris' eyes. To turn down one so inspired and enthusiastic—as sudden as it was—would be too cruel…

"…I'm leaving tomorrow. Think about it for a while."

With the firmness in his tone, Harris couldn't even object. He nodded, accepting this solemnly. It wouldn't hurt to think on it more, he supposed—adults like to think a lot, and since he was an adult now, he probably should, too—and really, he was just happy that Peter's response wasn't a definite 'no'. He looked back to his food, before smiling at Peter. When Peter smiled back, Harris could only smile more; it was nice to feel like this person approved of him.

He loved approval.

- Page Cut -

The king stood proudly before his citizens, a wide grin on his face as he waved to the prisoner.

"At last, the horrible warlock has been brought to justice!" He declared with a laugh; the crowd erupted into applause, cheering their king's might and thanking him for his work. They praised his faithful knights and his team of magicians. They smiled warmly and waved to him. "For his crimes, he will be burned at the stake! Criminals like this horrible warlock will not be left unpunished. I, your precious king, will light the match myself."

Even louder applause erupted from the crowd, leaving a buzz in the king's ears as he sauntered to the criminal tied to the cross.

"P-please," the faceless man begged, "spare me!"

The king smirked. "No."

And soon, the man was ablaze, screaming and begging for mercy.

The king looked to his mother in the audience—the Queen, one might say—and smiled. "Aren't you happy, mother? I did it. I got him."

The woman smiled back at him with great pride and happiness, letting her beautiful blonde hair fall in her face as she applauded her son's success, and the king knew that that meant it had to be a dream.

- Page Cut –

It was a bit noisier when Harris woke up. The man he'd stabbed was having a small funeral today, and the procession was crossing the alley he slept in. He eyed the sobbing ex-wife, slightly disgruntled by all the commotion a worthless old drunk was suddenly getting.

He sleepily stumbled through the back alleys, making his way around a building and own a sidewalk. _Did Peter ever say what time he was leaving today? He didn't… I hope he hasn't gone without me! _Harris felt a bit anxious and more awake at the thought, looking to the clock tower in the distance; he couldn't tell time too well—much less see that far, for that matter—and so was hopeless at telling if he'd slept in too long. With the funeral procession going on, he was clueless as to whether it was breakfast hour or lunch hour. The sun was well hidden behind clouds, and he was a bit disoriented.

Harris groaned in frustration; _What a bad way to begin the day, huh?_

His journey to the pub was uneventful, aside from a stray cat running past him—"Disgusting! Gross, stupid animal!" he shouted at it, jumping away and cringing. Harris absolutely hated cats, and all animals, for that matter!—and was rather quick, thankfully.

"Alright, here I go…" He whispered to himself, giving a nod of confidence and making sure he looked strong and determined, before going in.

- Page Cut -

"_What do you mean he left already?"_

_The bartender stared, surprised at the outburst. "It's late in the afternoon, kid. He left only about twenty minutes ago, though. With the traffic, he's probably just outside of the city. You could catch him—Ah!"_

_Harris had run out as soon as he heard where Peter might be. "Peter, wait!"_

His skinny legs were shaking as he ran down the old, dirty road that led out of the city. A wooden horse-drawn cat was only about half a mile ahead of him, horses beside it. Harris could see Peter sitting on the bag of the cart, holding a shotgun, and he smiled, waving his arms.

He felt like he was going to throw up when he opened his mouth, shouting, "PETER! PETER, ITS HARRIS KLEIN! WAIT UP!"

The cart came to a stop and he let out a laugh, doing his best to pick up speed, no matter how much it hurt to do so.

He stumbled to his knees when he finally caught up, gasping and panting for air. "Harris, are you alright?" Peter asked, blinking. One of the men got off his horse, offering the young boy a canteen. Harris waved him off, shaking his head weakly as he gasped for air again.

"N-no thank you, ah… P-Peter, I made my choice!" He grinned at the older male, wiping sweat from his forehead shakily. "P-Peter, I want to g-go with you! L-let me join the militia_, please!_"

Peter watched him, slightly surprised, before looking between his companions. Some sort of silent debate passed between them, before Peter smiled at Harris warmly. Harris' already rapidly beating heart sped up to a dangerous rate, adrenaline and anticipation nearly making it burst.

"Welcome aboard, Klein."

- Page Cut –

_**Three Weeks Later**_

"_As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others." –Marianne Williamson _

Harris looked around the base town with enthusiasm, grinning.

It was a small town much like his own; it vaguely reminded him of the town called Risembool that Peter had told him about, but not nearly as farmland-oriented or spread out. The buildings were brick with tiled (was that the word? He wasn't sure…) roofs and little flower boxes in the windows. A few shops were around, but not many, and he could smell meat cooking from someplace.

This town was the base town for the militia; it was known as Patrick's Grove to the citizens, but according to Peter, that wasn't its real name—it was apparently officially called Bradley Hill.

"It was named before the Führer was put into office, but it now symbolizes something we refuse to accept—something we hate." Peter explained with a frown.

Harris was awed. "Is everyone here a part of the militia?"

"Yes. There are only about sixty people in the area total, but they all are involved somehow and support what we are trying to accomplish," Peter smiled slightly at his childish excitement. "My father is the leader, though—you'll meet him when he gets back from a recruitment trip."

"Okay…"

"I'll be finding a place for you to stay, but for now you can just explore the area. Have fun, make some friends—this is your home now."

Harris nodded, hopping off the cart and running off. He was sure he'd find Peter later when he needed him—it wasn't that big of a place, after all.

He felt bad that he'd partially lied to the charismatic man—when telling his story, he'd said that he was an orphan running away from a children's home in the city, and Peter believed him; "You smell awful and look like a street kid, the possibility of you being anything but was far too unlikely. I've seen many street kids and many spies, and you are neither."—but it was all for a good cause. It wasn't like he was entirely lying, either; he had disowned his mother in a way. He might as well be an orphan then, right? He had been a street kid for a while…

_Don't think about the technicalities, just focus on now!_

Harris sighed, sitting on some stairs to tie his shoes. He thought this was probably a schoolhouse, judging by the appearance—he couldn't read the sign well.

_I don't want to go to school, really, _he mused, _but if no one knows my mother… maybe it'd be different._

He cringed at the memories that ran through his mind.

"_What does the hooker's son have for lunch today? Ha, woulda guessed it be seeds! Loser!"_

"Bastards…" Harris grumbled, shaking his head.

"Hm?"

He blinked and looked up, face heating when he saw the cute blonde girl peeking out from the building window.

"Huh?"

"You said some weird word," the girl mumbled shyly, tilting her head. "Bast… Barters? What does it mean?" She asked, batting her big blue eyes at him innocently.

Harris deadpanned, looking back to his shoes. "Well, aren't you naïve?" He sighed, shaking his head a bit with a frown. "I said 'bastards', it's a word you use for people you dislike because they're mean."

"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid," she pouted. "I'm not an idiot."

"It's arguable." Harris grumbled, before looking back to her. Maybe he shouldn't be so mean; for a whorish woman, she was pretty cute. "My name is Harris Klein. I just moved into town."

"I saw! Peter brought you." She grinned. "It's nice to meet you then, Harris Klein, friend of Peter! I'm Melinda Fritz. I live outside of the town, on the horse farm! I just turned eight!"

"…U-huh. Kay. Nice to meet you then, kid." Harris rolled his eyes, cheeks turning a bit pink. What a weird girl… "Well, um…"

"See you!" And just like that, she disappeared into the window—her laughter faded as she went further inside, and Harris deadpanned.

_This town kind of freaks me out, now that I think about it._

- Page Cut –

That night, Harris was invited to Peter's home for dinner. He knew from their many discussions on the road that Peter had a wife, but he was surprised to find out that Larraine Lunsford had had a baby since Peter left. Not even Peter had known that the baby had been born—hell, he didn't even know that Larraine was pregnant!

"I found out a week after he left," she said, brushing some of her light brown hair from her eyes. "When Peter is on the road, he never calls—it's too dangerous in case the military is listening in, he says."

Peter sighed sadly, hugging his newborn daughter a bit tightly. "It's the price of the job. Ever since my father decided to start the militia, we've had to live like this. Recruiting trips or surveillance every other month with no contact with our family back home—usually they don't last eight months, though! And just after our wedding, too…"

"Well, not right after…" Larraine teased. The joke went right over Harris' head.

"That's why I wanted you to think about it, Harris." Peter went on. "It's not an easy life, and once you get in, you don't get out—it's too risky."

"But you talked about it so openly in town!"

"Those people already have supported us—they're a small group that only provides supplies and shelter when our members pass through. They never fight." Peter explained. "It's complicated, I know, but you'll get it eventually."

"I'm sure that I will." Harris smiled, nodding.

Larraine grinned. "I'll bet! You seem like a smart boy."

"T-thanks…"

"He is, Lar." Peter laughed. "The things he talked about on the trip home—the goals he has! You should hear him talk, Larraine. He's a good boy." He then looked to Harris with a bit of pride; as if he was some new weapon that Peter had acquired. "He's a teacher's kid, I'll bet."

Harris internally flinched.

"Or maybe a soldier's son." Larraine agreed.

"Tell me, Harris, what _did_ your mother do?"

- Page Cut -

The king watched his castle burn with horror, the screams of the servants escaping and those trapped inside filling his ears. His dream was his downfall.

_Long live the king._

* * *

**Omake/Extra**

"Tell me, Harris, what _did _your mother do?" Peter asked, grinning.

Harris laughed. "Well, just about everyone in town. Hey, miss Larraine, can you pass the mashed potatoes? Please?"

Silence filled the room.

* * *

A/n: Hope you enjoyed the extra at the end. Harris won't be around for a while—I'm getting initial backstories out of the way, but this one especially plays important parts in the future of the story.

Reviews are appreciated!

Happy early April Fools Day/Evangelion 2.22 release day!  
-Dice


	10. Reader's choice!

Hey, guys; sorry for not updating. I had serious writer's block! There will be an update for both this fanfiction and Pen to a Notebook this weekend, I promise, but I have a quick question for you guys which is in a poll that should be showing up in my profile soon concerning what to do next with this fanfiction.

Would you like the story to continue the way it is, or would you like me to post a revised version with less filler and better grammar? There are really no changes to the plot in the revised version I have, and both are ready to be posted as soon as I get feedback on what my readers would like.

Feel free to vote in the poll or PM me with your thoughts if it has yet to show up. I'm really eager to know what you guys think.

Again, sorry for the delays and whatnot.

-Dice


	11. A Quick Note

Hey everyone.

I hate to do this after being so inactive for forever, but I've decided to give up on this story. The plot doesn't interest me as much anymore, and I've taken the characters and put them into an original series (that I hope to someday publish). I am so sorry to those of you who enjoyed this story so far (even though it never got down to the actual plot and was only the beginning chapters) and supported it through my horrible rewrites and "Mary Sue" days; it really means a lot. Maybe someday I'll revisit the plot with different characters, since I still would love to do a complete Fullmetal Alchemist story. But for now, this story is done.

Thanks for your time,  
JiseiHakushaku


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